UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
AT  LOS  ANGELES 


MEMORIES  OF 
GEORGE  MEREDITH,  O.M. 


GEORGE    MKKKDI'I  ll 


Silhouette  taken  by  Si*  John  Butcher,  Hurt. 

A'.C,  M.P.,  in  !885. 


Frontispie  e 


MEMORIES   OF 
GEORGE   MEREDITH 

O.M. 


BY 


LADY    BUTCHER 


WITH  THKEE  ILLUSTRATIONS 


NEW    YORK 

CHARLES   SCRIBNERS   SONS 

1919 


Printed  in  Great  Britain 


•        i  ' 


i. 


H 


v 


? 
- 


TO 

WILL  and  MARIE 

AND 

THEIR  CHILDREN 


211257 


PREFACE 

These  Memories  of  forty-one  years'  friend- 
ship with  George  Meredith  may,  I  hope, 
have  some  value  for  those  who  know  and 
appreciate  his  novels  and  poems,  and  may 
not  be  without  interest  to  those  who  had 
the  privilege  of  personal  acquaintance 
with  him. 

They  are  in  no  sense  offered  or  intended 
even  as  a  partial  biography.  They  are 
compiled  partly  from  recollections,  and 
partly  from  notes  made  in  my  diaries. 

These  notes  contain  a  contemporaneous 
record  of  his  sayings,  and  as  such  have, 
I  hope,  a  certain  value.  I  have  therefore 
thought  it  best  to  give  them  in  their  origi- 
nal form,  necessarily  rough  and  frag- 
mentary, rather  than  detract  from  their 
character  by  any  attempt  to  polish  or 
improve  them. 

vii 


viii  MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

It  is  beyond  my  powers  by  any  written 
record  adequately  to  reproduce  his  illumin- 
ating talk,  or  to  describe  his  clear  per- 
ceptive mind,  or  his  wise  counsels  in  times 
of  anxiety.  From  what  I  have  written 
the  reader  will,  I  trust,  be  able  to  outline 
for  himself  a  true  picture  of  the  character 
of  my  friend  as  I  knew  him. 

It  is  a  matter  of  regret  to  me  that  I 
have  been  unable  altogether  to  avoid 
referring  to  my  own  life  and  experiences ; 
but  it  seemed  impossible  otherwise  to 
make  the  purpose  and  meaning  of  his 
sayings  and  counsels  rightly  understood. 

A.  M.  B. 

1919. 


CHAPTER  I 

The  first  time  I  ever  saw  Mr.  George 
Meredith  was  in  1867,  before  dawn  on  a 
morning  of  June,  and  the  manner  of  it 
was  this. 

I  was  an  only  child  of  thirteen  years  of 
age,  and  was  taken  by  my  parents  to  stay 
with  our  relatives,  Dr.  and  Mrs.  Gordon 
at  Pixholme,  under  Box  Hill.  My  cousin, 
Jim  Gordon,  an  Eton  boy  of  sixteen, 
suggested  to  me  that  we  should  get  up 
early  in  the  morning,  unknown  to  our 
parents,  and  walk  up  Box  Hill  to  see  the 
sun  rise.  This  seemed  to  me  to  promise 
a  joyful  escapade,  and  I  gladly  agreed, 
hardly  sleeping  all  night  for  excitement. 

We  started  long  before  it  was  light,  and 
as  we  groped  our  way  along  the  Leather- 
head  road,  Jim  Gordon  said  to  me  : 

A 


2      MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

4 1  know  a  madman  who  lives  on  Box 
Hill.  He  's  quite  mad,  but  very  amusing, 
he  likes  walks  and  sunrises.  Let 's  go  and 
shout  him  up  !  '  So  we  trudged  up  the 
little  drive  to  Flint  Cottage,  Mr.  Meredith's 
home  (the  chalet  was  not  built  then),  and 
began  to  throw  small  stones  at  the  window 
of  his  bedroom. 

It  was  quickly  thrown  up,  and  a  loud 
and  cheerful  voice  asked  '  what  we  meant 
by  trying  to  break  his  window.'  We 
explained  that  we  wanted  him  to  climb 
up  Box  Hill  with  us  and  see  the  sun  rise. 
In  a  miraculously  short  time  Mr.  Mere- 
dith joined  us,  slightly  clad,  his  nightshirt 
thrust  into  brown  trousers,  and  his  bare 
feet  into  leather  slippers,  no  hat  on  his 
head,  twisting  his  stick,  and  summon- 
ing his  brown  retriever  dog.  He  started 
to  walk  very  fast  up  the  steep  grass  in- 
cline of  Box  Hill,  very  easy  for  him  to 
climb  in  those  vigorous  days,  and  for 
my  country -bred  cousin,  but  pantingly 
difficult  to  my  town-bred  lungs  and 
muscles. 


MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH   3 

'  Come  on,  London-pated  girl,'  he 
shouted,  and  up  I  struggled  to  sink  ex- 
hausted on  the  top,  and  then  we  sat  and 
watched  the  sun  rise  and  glorify  the  valley 
and  the  hills.  I  smile  to  remember  that 
then  I  insisted  on  reading  aloud  to  Mr. 
Meredith  one  of  the  hymns  from  Keble's 
Christian  Year,  while  he  gravely  listened 
to  the  birds  singing  around  us. 

I  shall  never  forget  his  conversation 
that  morning.  If  we  had  over-strained 
the  powers  of  our  body  climbing  so  fast 
up  the  hill,  he  certainly  strained  the  powers 
of  our  minds  as  he  poured  forth  the  most 
wonderful  prose  hymn  to  Nature,  Life, 
and  what  he  called  obligation,  by  which  I 
understood  he  meant  Duty. 

His  enthusiasm,  his  personality,  so  one 
with  Nature,  the  summer  and  the  morning, 
startled  and  bewildered  me,  and  for  the 
first  time  in  my  spoilt  only-child  life  I 
was  awake  and  interested  in  something 
outside  myself. 

I  was  very  weary  in  mind  and  body 
when  I  returned  home,  but  I  knew  that  I 


4   MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

had  watched  the  sun  rise  beside  a  Poet 
and  a  Thinker ;  and  thus  began  for  me  a 
friendship  that  never  diminished  during 
the  forty-one  years  that  it  lasted. 

During  the  days  that  followed  we  made 
several  more  excursions  and  picnics  with 
Mr.  Meredith. 

One  early  morning  visit  to  Betchworth 
Beeches  remains  specially  in  my  memory, 
for  he  loved  the  beech  trees,  trunk,  branch, 
and  leaves, — the  pale  yellow  leaves  that 
they  wear  in  early  spring,  that  are  de- 
scribed as  '  Primrose  Mountains  '  in  his 
poem  '  Love  in  a  Valley.' 

These  Nature  talks  were  a  great  marvel 
to  us  children,  Jim  and  Eva  Gordon  and 
myself.  Mr.  Meredith  used  to  advise  us 
to  go  to  our  Mother  Nature  and  learn  of 
her,  and  not  to  look  upon  trees,  mountains, 
fields  and  lakes  as  merely  the  background 
of  our  own  little  ephemeral  lives.  He  told 
us  that  he  had  trained  himself  when  he 
walked  '  to  observe,  not  to  feel.' 

I  remember  well  his  laughter  at  the 
little   London   girl,    who,    hearing   a   bird 


MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH   5 

sing  in  a  bush,  and  eager  to  show  '  obser- 
vation,' asked  if  that  was  not  a  nightin- 
gale ?  As  it  was  not  yet  morning,  and 
the  light  was  dim,  it  seemed  quite  probable 
that  it  was  a  nightingale  !  But  there 
followed  a  hail  of  ridicule  about  my  ears, 
and  jests  at  the  '  flighty  girl '  who  didn't 
distinguish  between  the  note  of  an  English 
thrush  and  the  song  of  the  '  foreign  singer,' 
as  he  used  to  call  the  nightingale. 

In  those  days  his  laughter,  rhymes,  and 
jokes  were  constant,  but  he  was  ever  a 
master  of  exquisite  chaff,  and  his  words 
never  really  hurt.  They  only  stimulated 
us  to  try  and  find  a  retort.  Though  we 
did  not  often  succeed,  the  effort  was  very 
good  for  our  brains. 

Whenever  I  needed  a  rest  and  change 
from  the  rather  over  -  strenuous  educa- 
tional life  that  my  parents  organised  for 
me  in  London,  I  was  always  sent  down 
to  stay  with  Dr.  and  Mrs.  Gordon  at 
Pixholme. 

The  Dorking  Valley  was  real  country 
in  those  days.     There  was  only  one  little 


6      MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

station  at  Box  Hill,  reached  by  train 
from  Charing  Cross.  The  Victoria  line 
was  not  built,  there  were  far  fewer  houses 
and  villas  along  the  road,  and  it  was 
possible  to  walk  or  ride  for  miles  without 
meeting  an  excursionist. 

During  these  visits  I  constantly  saw 
Mr.  Meredith.  Flint  Cottage  was  barely 
half  a  mile  from  Pixholme,  and  he  came 
over  very  often  to  lunch,  tea,  and  dinner, 
and  to  sit  in  the  pleasant  garden  under  the 
giant  tulip  tree. 

He  had  many  interests  in  common  with 
old  Dr.  Gordon,  who  in  his  youth  lived 
in  Weimar  for  a  time,  had  known  Goethe 
personally,  and  had  also  served  in  the 
Austrian  army.  Moreover,  he  was  a  very 
good  linguist,  and  was  well  read  in  the 
European  literature  of  his  day. 

One  afternoon,  while  we  were  having 
tea  on  the  lawn,  Mr.  Meredith  suddenly 
said  to  a  girl  visitor  :  '  When  you  were  in 
London,  your  face  was  like  a  sheet  of 
white  paper ;  and  now  it  looks  as  if  I  had 
written  a  sonnet  upon  it ! ' 


MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH   7 

Various  scientific  and  literary  men  and 
foreigners  used  to  come  and  stay  at  Pix- 
holme.  Dr.  Gordon  always  invited  Mr. 
Meredith  to  meet  them.  On  these  occa- 
sions both  he  and  his  guests  were  anxious 
to  get  to  4  real  talk '  instead  of  the  local 
gossip  of  the  countryside,  but  the  ladies 
themselves  enjoyed  hearing  Mr.  Meredith 
talk,  and  sometimes  lingered  over  their 
dessert  to  hear  his  witty  remarks.  On 
one  such  occasion  we  children,  who  were 
waiting  outside  the  dining-room  door  in 
the  hall,  heard  him  say  to  the  gentlemen, 
as  the  ladies  left  the  room  : 

'  Long  live  the  decent  separation  of  the 
sexes  !  ' 

I  do  not  think  Mr.  Meredith  liked  the 
company  of  very  rich  people,  and  I  re- 
member well  as  a  child  how  puzzled  I  was, 
and  what  a  new  idea  it  appeared  to  me, 
when  I  heard  him  say  that  in  many  cases 
the  vision  of  rich  people  was  limited  to 
their  personal  possessions,  and  that  their 
mental  horizon  was  bounded  by  their 
own  park  gates.     Such  ideas  are  truisms 


8   MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

nowadays.  In  the  sixties  they  appeared 
startling  and  revolutionary  ! 

He  was  by  nature  very  proud,  and 
haughtily  resented  anything  like  patronage. 
He  had  a  certain  carriage  of  the  head  that 
we  grew  to  recognise  whenever  he  sus- 
pected any  one  of  attempting  to  patronise 
him.     They  did  not  do  it  a  second  time. 

With  his  Surrey  neighbours  who  were 
his  personal  friends,  however  rich  they 
were,  he  was  very  genial,  and  chaffed 
them  constantly  about  their  French  cooks, 
orchid  houses,  and  well-filled  stables,  and 
would  ask  them  when  they  returned  to 
their  country  residences  from  their  town 
mansions,  '  Well,  have  you  been  going  to 
many  gabble  gobble  dinner  parties  ?  ' 

One  day  there  was  a  garden  fete  at  a 
house  in  the  Dorking  Valley,  and  a  care- 
less footman  spilt  a  plate  of  strawberries 
and  cream  all  over  Mrs.  M.'s  new  Paris 
gown. 

The  lady  laughed  away  sympathy,  and 
said  there  were  plenty  more  dresses  to  be 
had  where  that  one  had  come  from,  but 


MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH   9 

Mr.  Meredith  whispered  to  Mrs.  Gordon  : 
1  My  dear  !  I  can  hear  her  give  a  fifty 
guinea  sigh  !  ' 

The  Gordons  and  I  were  verv  fond  of 
play-acting,  and  we  invented  a  sort  of 
game  in  which  half  the  company  would 
try  and  portray  some  abstract  quality 
such  as  Fear,  Courage,  Ambition,  Conceit, 
Love,  Hypocrisy,  and  so  on,  either  as  a 
form  of  charade  or  in  dumb  crambo. 
The  other  half  of  the  party  (which 
generally  consisted  of  our  elders)  were 
expected  to  guess  what  it  was  that  we  were 
trying  to  depict. 

Mr.  Meredith  was  amused  with  these 
games,  and  while  his  wife  helped  with  the 
dressing-up  and  properties,  he  would  con- 
tribute many  suggestions  and  criticisms, 
but  he  never  could  be  persuaded  to  act 
himself,  preferring  always  to  be  a  mem- 
ber of  the  audience,  who  observed  and 
criticised. 

On  the  other  hand,  he  would  often  out 
in  the  garden,  or  while  we  were  walking 
over  the  hills,  start  a  kind  of  comic  dialogue 


10  MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

in  which  he  himself  would  represent  both 
actors,  and  these  stories  and  episodes 
would  make  the  longest  uphill  road  seem 
short  to  us. 

He  would,  lor  instance,  start  a  romantic 
story,  and  invent  love-affairs  and  adven- 
tures for  us,  or  for  some  of  the  visitors 
who  were  staying  at  Pixholme,  and  the 
comedy  of  these  stories  generally  con- 
sisted of  the  individual  selected  to  be  the 
hero  or  heroine  of  these  adventures  being, 
apparently,  peculiarly  unsuitable  to  the 
role. 

I  recall  to  mind  one  little  gentleman,  very 
plain,  short,  and  bald,  with  a  hesitating 
manner.  Mr.  Meredith,  as  soon  as  ever 
he  met  him,  started  him  on  a  series  of  gay 
and  gallant  adventures  in  the  pursuit  of 
a  fair  heiress  who  lived  on  one  of  the  hills 
round  Dorking.  I  am  not  sure  that  the 
man  and  the  lady  had  ever  met,  but  that 
did  not  hinder  Mr.  Meredith's  inventions 
in  the  least,  and  he  launched  his  little  hero 
on  one  adventure  after  another,  and  every 
time  he  came  to  Pixholme  Mr.  Meredith 


MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH    11 

would  be  ready  with  a  new  and  fantastic 
suggestion  as  to  the  manner  in  which  he 
should  propose  marriage  to  the  lady,  or 
some  novel  idea  as  to  the  way  in  which  he 
might  capture  her  affection.  Mrs.  Mere- 
dith entered  into  the  fun  with  her  husband, 
and  speculated  upon  her  side  as  to  what 
the  damsel  would  answer  to  all  these 
amorous  declarations  of  devotion. 

I  wondered  sometimes  how  the  poor 
man  could  endure  these  constant  carica- 
tures of  his  hesitation  and  peculiarities, 
and  thought  that  his  sense  of  humour 
must  have  been  abnormally  developed  for 
him  to  appreciate  such  constant  laughter 
against  himself ;  till  Mr.  Meredith  sug- 
gested to  me  that  he  was  really  subtly 
flattered  at  being  supposed  to  be  capable 
of  inspiring  devotion  in  such  an  attrac- 
tive lady  at  all ! 

One  afternoon  I  went  for  a  walk  up  Box 
Hill  with  Mrs.  Meredith,  to  look  for  wild 
flowers,  and  the  next  morning  Mr.  Meredith 
came  over  to  Pixholme  almost  breathless 
with  joy  to  announce  the  safe  arrival  of 


12  MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

his  daughter,  his  '  dearie  girl.'  There  was 
great  rejoicing  and  health  drinking  upon 
this  great  event ;  Jim  Gordon,  to  honour 
the  occasion  to  the  best  of  his  power, 
called  the  new  foal  '  the  dearie  girl.' 

Eva  Gordon  was  invited  to  be  god- 
mother to  the  child,  and  she  and  I  often 
walked  over  to  Flint  Cottage  to  admire 
the  baby,  and  to  play  with  her  brother, 
William  Maxse,  then  a  little  boy  of  five 
years  old. 

Mrs.  Meredith  spoke  English  with  a 
pretty  French  accent.  She  was  by  birth 
a  Madlle.  Vulliamy,  a  family  of  French 
Huguenot  origin,  and  had  spent  many  of 
her  younger  years  in  Normandy,  where 
her  brothers  owned  and  managed  some 
large  wool  mills.  She  translated  various 
French  books  and  papers  for  her  husband's 
publishers,  including  the  Life  of  Cavour. 
She  played  the  piano  very  well ;  she 
was  a  brilliant  performer  of  Chopin,  and 
played  classical  music  of  all  sorts  accur- 
ately and  with  understanding.  Her 
husband    obviously    enjoyed    her    music, 


MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH    13 

and  the  pleasure  that  she  was  able  to  give 
to  his  friends.  I  used  to  walk  over  to 
play  duets  with  her,  which  was  a  great 
enjoyment,  but  unfortunately  Mr.  Mere- 
dith did  not  like  either  duets  or  practisings, 
and  he  used  to  make  sarcastic  comments 
on  our  performances,  and  excelled  himself 
in  weird  and  whimsical  comparisons  of 
our  music  to  farmyard  noises. 

After  this  summer  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Mere- 
dith came  very  constantly  to  stay  with 
my  parents  in  London,  the  dear  '  Elvas- 
tons,'  as  they  called  them,  because  they 
lived  in  Elvaston  Place.  Mr.  Meredith 
was  specially  fond  of  my  mother,  who, 
having  a  great  sense  of  fun  herself,  much 
appreciated  his  conversation,  although  she 
told  him  often  that  she  detested  poetry 
and  couldn't  read  or  understand  his  novels. 

From  my  Diary 

Mother  said  to  Mr.  Meredith  that  '  Girls  are 
always  putting  their  foot  into  things.'  He 
replied,  '  And  the  pity  is  that  they  often  leave 
it  there.'     I  suppose  he  meant  that  they  do  not 


14    MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

recover  happiness  after  foolishly  losing  their 
hearts. 

Talking  of  the  flirtations  of  some  girls  that  we 
knew,  Mr.  Meredith  said  to  Mother, '  You  cannot 
call  such  things  Love.  There  is  no  real  passion 
in  such  things.  "  I  like  Harry,  I  can't  endure 
Charley,  but  Tom  's  the  man  for  me  !  "  and  then 
— the  dear  girl  fancies  that  she  loves  Tom  !  '  He 
then  said,  '  That  it  was  very  easy  for  a  man  to 
win  half  a  woman's  heart.  The  difficulty  was 
to  win  her  whole  heart,  and  the  misery  of  many 
marriages  came,  because  a  woman  often  gave 
her  hand,  when  only  half  her  heart  was  won.' 

Later  he  said  to  me  :  '  Make  up  your  mind, 
did  you  say  ?  Make  up  your  mind  ?  You 
haven't  got  one  yet.  You  are  all  round  the 
clock  in  twenty-four  hours  !  ' 

From  my  Diary 

Mother  was  ill,  so  Father  let  me  dine  down- 
stairs. I  sat  between  Mr.  Fitz-James  Stephen  * 
and  Mr.  George  Meredith,  and  Mr.  Fitz-James 
Stephen  said,  '  I  have  been  reading  Milton's 
Paradise  Lost,  and  I  think  it  is  the  most  foolish 
poem  that  ever  was  written.'  (Expostulations.) 
'  No,  I  'm  not  denying  that  there  are  a  few  nice 
things  about  the  devil — but  all  the  same  I  do 
think  it  is  the  most  foolish  poem  that  ever  was 

1  Afterwards  Mr,  Justice  FitzJames  Stephen. 


MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH    15 

written.'  Afterwards  he  and  Mr.  Meredith 
were  very  rude  to  each  other  about  bottle-nosed 
whales. 

I  must  often  have  bored  Mr.  Meredith 
with  my  crude  appreciation  of  the 
4  obvious '  in  poetry  and  literature,  but  I 
never  once  remember  his  belittling  of  the 
many  religious  writers  that  I  so  enthusi- 
astically admired.  He  would  listen  or 
not  as  the  mood  took  him,  and  sometimes 
he  would  talk  himself,  and  warn  me  against 
what  he  called  (  predatory  pleasures,'  or 
allowing  happiness  to  come  into  one's  life 
at  the  expense  of  others ;  also  he  not 
seldom  pointed  out  the  blessings  of 
'  celestial  thwacks  '  to  the  soul  of  girl  as 
well  as  boy,  and  how  the  life  of  '  drifting 
ease  '  ruins  the  character  and  the  brains, 
and  how  little  value  to  the  world  were 
the  opinions  of  the  *  guarded  ones.' 

The  Gordon  family  had  a  somewhat 
exasperating  habit  of  quoting  their 
favourite  authors,  in  season  and  out  of 
season,  and  naturally  any  one  staying 
with  them  rapidly  acquired  the  same  trick. 


16    MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

Mr.  Meredith  made  war  upon  this  habit, 
and  his  method  of  combat  was  to  start 
apocryphal  quotations  from  invented 
authors  and  poets  and  essayists,  extra- 
ordinarily comic  to  listen  to.  One  day 
I  repeated  to  him  a  favourite  quotation 
of  mine,  and  he  answered  with  a  grimace  : 
'  Yes,  my  dear,  when  the  candle  burns 
down  it  does  so  waste  the  grease.' 

From  my  Diary 

When  he  was  staying  with  us  in  London  one 
of  Miss  Charlotte  Yonge's  novels  was  lying  on 
the  table,  and  Mr.  Meredith  picked  it  up,  and 
as  he  often  does  with  my  books,  read  a  few 
sentences,  and  then  continued  to  read  on  out 
of  his  own  head  a  sustained'  conversation  be- 
tween the  characters,  calling  out :  '  This  woman 
does  contrive  dialogue  well !  '  I  was  glad  he 
said  this,  as  I  do  like  Miss  Charlotte  Yonge's 
books.  He  went  on  to  talk  and  point  out  his 
difficulties  of  making  conversation  in  books 
natural,  and  the  banal  '  she  said  '  and  '  he  said,' 
and  so  on.  Mother  says  she  wishes  Mr.  Meredith 
would  copy  Miss  Yonge's  method  of  telling  a  tale 
so  that  it  can  be  understood,  in  his  own  books. 

Mr.  Meredith  was  very  much  at  home  at 


MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH  17 

Elvaston  Place,  and  jested  freely  with  my 
mother  and  myself,  but  in  all  his  inter- 
course with  us  there  was  always  a  certain 
formality  that  appealed  to  me.  However 
much  he  laughed  at  me  when  we  were 
alone  or  with  my  mother,  he  always 
called  me  '  Miss  Brandreth  '  in  public,  and 
I  liked  this,  being  very  young. 

In  the  sixties  and  seventies  South  Ken- 
sington was  something  of  an  Anglo-Indian 
village,  and  I  used  to  be  dreadfully  bored 
listening  to  the  old  Indian  reminiscences 
of  bygone  experiences.  In  those  days 
young  ladies  were  expected  to  listen  to 
their  elders,  it  was  polite  to  look  interested, 
and  unpardonable  to  fidget  and  interrupt, 
but  Mr.  Meredith's  conversation  was  a 
very  welcome  change,  and  often  made 
that  of  other  people  seem  dull. 


CHAPTER  II 

MR.  MEREDITH  AND  SHAKESPEARE 
READINGS 

We  used  to  get  up  Shakespeare  Readings, 
and  our  parents  encouraged  this  pastime 
as  a  good  educational  exercise. 

It  is  rather  amusing  to  remember  that 
my  first  experience  of  a  Shakespeare 
Reading  was  at  a  Girls'  School,  where  my 
father  sent  me  to  attend  a  series  of  lec- 
tures upon  Shakespeare's  plays  given  there 
by  Dr.  F.  G.  Furnivall.  The  day  after 
each  lecture  the  pupils  read  the  play,  each 
taking  a  separate  part,  and  the  first  time 
I  was  given  the  small  part  of  Gratiano  in 
the  Merchant  of  Venice  to  recite  in  the 
Trial  Scene.  I  was  carried  away,  and  said : 
'  Oh  !  be  thou  damned,  inexorable  Jew ! ' 
with  such  fervour  that  Dr.  Furnivall  was 
convinced  at  once  that  I  had  the  makings 

18 


MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH  19 

of  a  great  actress,  and  being  very  young, 
and  only  too  credulous  of  praise,  I  was 
quite  prepared  to  believe  him,  and  was 
fired  with  the  ambition  to  act.  My  mother 
promptly  refused  even  to  let  me  take  part 
in  any  private  theatricals,  but  after  much 
persuasion  consented  to  allow  my  father 
and  me  to  get  up  a  Shakespeare  Reading, 
but  she  sternly  refused  to  let  us  have 
anything  but  a  Reading.  She  would  not 
allow  me  to  dress  up,  or  have  any  scenery, 
and,  moreover,  she  absolutely  declined  to 
let  me  read  any  part  with  a  young  man 
as  my  lover.  To  her  old-fashioned  mind 
this  was  not  seemly.  However,  she  con- 
sented to  Mr.  Meredith's  taking  these 
lovers'  parts,  as  she  said  '  he  was  always 
so  good  for  Allie,  as  he  understands  girls 
so  well.' 

There  were  some  tears  shed  about  the 
prohibition  of  all  4  dress-up,'  about  which 
Mr.  Meredith  made  endless  jokes,  but  to 
make  up  for  our  disappointment  he  whole- 
heartedly threw  himself  into  the  rehearsals 
and  preparations,  and  used  to  coach  us 


20    MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

all  carefully  in  the  proper  speaking  of  the 
parts  and  in  the  careful  study  of  the 
various  characters  that  we  read. 

He  used  to  come  and  stay  with  us  at 
Elvaston  Place  for  these  Shakespeare 
Readings,  and  the  rehearsals  would  take 
place  at  Pixholme  or  in  London  before 
the  evening  arranged  for  the  represen- 
tation. 

All  the  parts  were  studied  and  prepared 
beforehand,  and  were  more  or  less  acted 
by  the  performers,  while  delightful  inci- 
dental music  was  played  and  improvised 
by  Mr.  Edward  Dannreuther.  Mr.  Mere- 
dith was  an  admirable  coach.  His  com- 
ments and  sarcastic  imitations  of  our 
efforts  were  very  amusing,  and,  though  he 
was  always  laughing  at  us,  everybody  en- 
joyed his  criticisms;  they  were  pure  fun, 
and  nothing  unkind  was  ever  said.  Most 
of  the  readers  were  very  young,  and  we 
used  in  our  ignorance  gaily  to  prance 
through  the  most  awful  passages;  then 
Mr.  Meredith  would,  without  a  smile, 
just  take  the  book,  pencil  out  the  objec- 


MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH  21 


tionable   passages   in  the   text,  and  say : 
'  Don't  read  that !  ' 

Much  ado  about  Nothing  was  the  first 
play  we  attempted,  in  which  I  read  the 
part  of  Beatrice,  and  Mr.  Meredith  that  of 
Benedick,  and  he  took  endless  pains  to 
make  me  study  that  part  carefully. 


MUCH  ADO  ABOUT  NOTHING 

32  Elvaston  Place, 
Queen's  Gate,  W.         Jan.  11th. 

.  Hon.  Dudley  Campbell. 

.  Mr.  Dalrymple. 

.  Mr.  Arthur  Milman. 

.  Mr.  George  Meredith. 

.  Prof.  A.  J.  Ellis. 

.  Mr.  E.  L.  Brandreth. 

.  Prof.  Sylvester. 

.  Dr.  Burney  Yeo. 

.  Dr.  F.  J.  Furnivall. 

.  Mr.  Dannreuther. 

.  Mr.  CUNYNGHAME. 

.  Hon.  H.  A.  Lawrence. 

.  Rev.  Henry  Milman. 

.  Mrs.  O'Malley. 

.  Miss  Alice  Brandreth. 

.  Mrs.  William  Spottiswoode. 

.  Miss  Lawrence. 


Tuesday, 

Don  Pedro 
Don  John 
Claudio 
Benedick 
Leonato 
Antonio 
Balthazar 
Boraehio 
Conrade 
A  Sexton 
Dogberry- 
Verges 
Friar  Francis 
Hero     . 
Beatrice 
Margaret 
Ursula  . 
Populace,  soldiers, 
and  Guards 


Mr.  J.  E.  H.  Gordon. 


22    MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

Later  we  read  the  Taming  of  the  Shrew, 
which  was  sheer  rollicking  fun  on  Mr. 
Meredith's  part.  He  thoroughly  enjoyed 
reading  Petruchio  to  my  Katharine.  We 
ended  up  that  Shakespeare  Reading  with 
a  dance,  and  at  the  supper  afterwards  he 
made  the  most  amusing  speech. 

While  we  were  rehearsing  the  Taming 
of  the  Shrew,  Mr.  Meredith  said  that  I  was 
trying  to  be  too  tragic,  and  must  be  more 
petulant.  At  last,  as  I  could  not  get  the 
tone  that  he  wanted,  he  seized  a  bedroom 
candlestick,  held  it  out,  and  exclaimed  : 
4  In  my  own  papa's  house  I  always  had 
the  best  wax  candles,  and  now  you  give 
me  only  these  horrid  dips.' 

In  these  side  ways  he  often  gave  us  all 
valuable  help,  but  was  unsparing  in  his 
criticism  and  caricatures  of  our  reading. 

As  You  Like  It  was  a  more  serious  per- 
formance, and  was  most  carefully  studied. 
Rosalind  was  a  favourite  Shakespearean 
heroine  with  Mr.  Meredith,  and  he  took 
great  pains  to  teach  me,  without  I  fear 
very  satisfactory  results.     He  himself,  as 


MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH  23 

Orlando,  did  not  have  much  scope.  Here 
is  a  letter  that  I  have  preserved,  sent  by 
Mr.  Meredith  in  answer  to  my  request 
that  he  would  come  up  to  town  and  join 
us  in  preparing  a  reading  of  As  You  Like  It. 

Wife  being  absent,  I  could  find 
Nought  to  say  to  Rosalind. 
She  returns  and  swift  as  wind 
Now  I  write  to  Rosalind. 

Young  Orlando,  reared  as  hind, 
Was  fit  mate  for  Rosalind. 
(When  his  manners  were  refined) 
He  had  youth  like  Rosalind. 

Shall  a  man  in  grey  declined, 
Seem  the  same  for  Rosalind  ? 
Yea,  though  merely  aged  in  rind, 
Is  he  worthy,  Rosalind  ? 
This  in  grave  debate  should  bind 
Parliaments  and  Rosalind. 

Still  if  captious,  wayward,  blind, 
And  the  rest  of  't,  Rosalind 
Should  insist — if  to  her  mind, 
If  she  have  one,  Rosalind 
Thinks  me  (if  to  thought  inclined 
Ever)  I  with  Rosalind, 
And  I  say  it  having  dined, 
Slept  and  dreamt  of  Rosalind. 


24    MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

I  will  do  my  best,  and  kind 
Prove  our  audience,  Rosalind  ! 
Take  these  words  for  treaty  signed, 
— No  Orlando,  Rosalind, 
But  a  man  with  wrinkles  lined 
Vows  to  read  with  Rosalind  !  ' 

Professor  Sylvester,  the  mathematician, 
who  joined  in  the  Shakespeare  Readings 
of  As  You  Like  It,  printed  three  hundred 
odd  lines  to  rhyme  with  Rosalind.  He 
sent  a  copy  to  Mr.  Meredith,  who  then 
wrote  this  note  to  my  mother. 

Dear  Mrs.  Brand reth,— After  three  nights 
of  anxious  thought !— and  it  may  be  communi- 
cated to  the  Professor — if  you  think  fit. 
'  Now  so  richly  Sylvestrined 
Here's  the  last  word  to  Rosalind.' 

And  my  compliments  to  her  from  yours 
most  faithful,  George  Meredith. 

Dear  Mrs.  Brandreth,— I  shall  be  very 
happy  to  come  on  Thursday  the  27th.  .  .  . 
Please  to  tell  my  dear  Beatrice  Rosalind 
Katharine  that  I  bear  in  mind  the  scheme  of 
writing  a  play  for  her.  ...  I  beg  to  be  remem- 
bered to  Mr.  Brandreth  and  Katharine,  and  I 
am  ever  your  most  faithful  and  devoted 

George  Meredith. 


MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH    25 

After  As  You  Like  It,  at  Mr.  Meredith's 
suggestion  we  undertook  Twelfth  Night. 
Mr.  Meredith  was  cast  for  Malvolio  and  I 
for  Maria.  He  gave  me  several  hours  of 
careful  instruction  in  his  idea  of  the  part. 
Meanwhile  I,  with  the  help  of  my  cousins, 
was  studying  to  imitate,  not  Shakespeare's 
Malvolio,  but  the  peculiar  idiosyncrasies 
of  Mr.  Meredith  himself— such  as  tossing 
his  head,  shooting  his  linen  cuffs,  and  so 
on.  When  the  day  came,  and  a  goodly 
party  were  gathered  together  to  listen  to 
our  reading  of  the  play,  I  shall  never 
forget  Mr.  Meredith's  face  when  he  quickly 
realised  what  I  was  trying  to  do.  I  am 
afraid  that  the  performance  was  not  so 
much  of  a  success  as  it  should  have  been, 
owing  to  my  own  and  the  other  actors'  and 
actresses'  laughter,  but  I  think  Mr.  Mere- 
dith enjoyed  the  fun,  and  for  months 
afterwards  alluded  to  it  constantly. 

He  had  laughed  and  mocked  so  much, 
and  so  often,  at  all  our  little  peculiarities 
of  gesture  and  diction,  that  he  forgave  us 
for  trying  to  do  the  same  with  him,  and 


26    MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

enjoyed  it  all  as  a  joke  against  himself. 
But  I  don't  think  Mrs.  Meredith  quite 
approved,  though  she  had  been  let  into 
the  secret  beforehand. 

Our  last  performance  was  more  am- 
bitious. We  had  a  printed  programme 
for  the  Merchant  of  Venice — for  which  the 
music  was  improvised  by  Mr.  Dannreuther. 


THE  MERCHANT  OF  VENICE 

The  Duke  of  Venice  .     Mr.  Kegan  Paul. 

Prince  of  Morocco/  Suitors  \Mv.  Dalrymple. 
Prince  of  Arragon  Uo  Portia)  Mr.  F.  Holland. 
Antonio    (a    Merchant    of 

Venice)     .         .         .     Mr.  A.  J.  Ellis. 
Bassanio     (his     kinsman, 

suitor  likewise  to  Portia)  Mr.'  George  Meredith 

(  1  Hon.  H.  A.  Lawrence 

Salanio 


Salarino 

Gratiano 

Salerio 


Friends  to 

Antonio  and 

Bassanio 


Lorenzo  (in  love  with  Jes- 
sica) 

Shylock  (a  rich  Jew) 

Tubal  (a  Jew,  his  friend)     . 

Launcelot  Gobbo  (Clown, 
servant  to  Shylock) 


Dr.  Burney  Yeo. 
•Mr.  J.  Stansfield. 
Hon.   Dudley  Camp- 
bell. 

Mr.  Gardiner. 

Mr.  Palgrave  Simpson 

Mr.  Chenery. 

Mr.  Roget, 


MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH  27 

Old  Gobbo  {Father  to 

Launcelot)         .         .  Mr.  Mallet. 
Leonardo  {Servant  to  Bas- 

sanio)       .         .         .  Dr.  F.  J.  Furnivall. 

Balthazar      Servants  to  ,,     CT         \ 
Stephano    I   Portia 

Antonio's  Servant    .  .  Mr.  R.  Cust. 

Clerk  of  the  Court    .  .  Mr.  Verrall. 

Portia  {a  rich  heiress)  .  Miss  Alice  Brand- 

reth. 

Nerissa  {her  waiting  maid)  Miss  Albinia  Cust. 

Jessica  {daughter  to  Shylock)  Miss  Margaret  Evans. 


Mr.  Hugh  Spottis- 
woode. 


Piano    .  .     Mr.  E.  Dannreuther. 


Song       .  .  '  Tell  me  where  is  fancy  bred.' 

Mrs.  Arthur  Milman  and  Mr.  Gardiner. 

In  order  to  mark  the  scene  in  the  Courts 
of  Justice,  I  was  anxious  to  put  on  a  thin 
black  cloth  coat,  but  my  mother  was 
adamant,  and  when  Mr.  Meredith  argued 
with  her  (knowing  how  much  I  was  set 
upon  obtaining  this  little  concession)  she 
replied  :  '  If  Allie  did  it  badly — she  might 
dress  up  and  do  anything  she  liked,  but 
as  it  is,  well,  I  simply  won't  hear  of  it.' 
Mr.  Meredith  was  obliged  to  acquiesce, 
though  dryly  assuring  my  mother  that  my 


28  MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

talents  as  an  actress  need  give  her  no 
anxiety  as  to  the  future. 

So  the  performance  took  place  as  before, 
but  the  evening  was  memorable  chiefly 
for  Mr.  Palgrave  Simpson's  acting  of  Shy- 
lock,  and  for  Dannreuther's  exquisite 
music.  But  alack  !  for  me  it  was  a  weary 
long  time  before  Mr.  Meredith  forgot  my 
tears  on  the  subject  of  '  the  waterproof 
cloak  !  ' 

We  also  read  some  of  the  historical  plays 
of  Shakespeare,  and  I  vividly  remember 
one  evening  at  the  Stephens's  house  in 
Cornwall  Gardens,  when  we  read  Julius 
Ccesar,  and  Herbert  and  Jim  Stephen 
recited  the  principal  parts. '  Jim  Stephen's 
rendering  of  Mark  Antony  was  a  remark- 
able performance. 

Mr.  Meredith  was  a  quite  admirable 
coach.  He  had  a  beautiful  speaking  voice 
himself,  and  took  much  pains  in  teaching 
the  various  readers  of  these  plays  to 
manage  the  tones  of  their  voice  properly, 
and  would  often  point  out  to  us  how  varied 
were   the   possibilities    of    inflection,   and 


MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH  29 

how  much  speech  gained  by  placing  the 
voice  in  different  ways  according  to  the 
emotions  that  we  wished  to  convey.  As 
I  said,  he  had  a  resonant  and  beautiful 
voice  (Eva  Gordon  used  to  declare  that 
it  would  be  a  treat  to  hear  him  recite  the 
Alphabet),  but  it  must  be  recorded  that 
he  was  not  himself  a  good  reader.  His 
performance  was  often  very  disappointing, 
and  he  would  be  so  busy  observing  the 
other  readers  that,  when  his  own  turn 
came,  he  lost  his  place  and  muddled  his 
lines,  and  when  he  read  the  lover's  part 
he  employed  a  sort  of  contemptuous  tone 
that  made  it  exasperatingly  difficult  for 
any  one  reading  the  heroine's  part  with 
him  to  imagine  for  a  moment  that  he  was 
even  interested  in  her,  or  able  to  admire 
her  at  all.  His  reading  of  Petruchio  gave 
him  fairer  scope,  and  Malvolio  was  ex- 
tremely good,  the  words  of  which  he 
trolled  forth  in  the  gayest,  most  infectious 
manner.  We  all  laughed  so  much  that  it 
was  difficult  to  continue  our  reading. 
It  must,  however,  be  remembered  that 


30  MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

owing  to  my  mother's  dictum  against  my 
reading  a  part  in  a  play  with  any  young 
unmarried  man  as  my  lover,  poor  Mr. 
Meredith  was  forced  to  undertake  parts 
such  as  Orlando  in  A  s  You  Like  It,  and 
Bassanio  in  the  Merchant  of  Venice,  which 
were  naturally  rather  uninteresting  to  him. 

I  have  kept  all  the  books  of  the  plays 
we  studied  together,  and  from  time  to 
time  love  to  recall  the  great  intellectual 
pleasure  it  was  to  read  with  him,  also  the 
very  great  fun,  for  no  one  has  ever  brought 
out  the  jocund  drollery  of  Shakespeare's 
plays  as  he  used  to  do. 

Here  is  a  letter  that  I  received  in 
answer  to  one  I  wrote  to  him,  begging  him 
to  discover  for  us  a  fine  reader  for  the 
part  of  Shylock. 

My  dear  Miss  Brandreth,— I  know  Pal- 
grave  Simpson,  am  very  fond  of  him  and  believe 
he  will  do  anything  for  me,  until  he  knows  you, 
when  he  will  be  subject  to  a  new  allegiance.  If 
you  and  I  do  not  clash  therefore  you  may  count 
on  him.  He  is  of  ripe  age,  turned  70,  and  with 
a  consuming  passion  for  the  stage,  and  the  dear 


MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH  31 

heart  of  him  so  frankly  nourished  by  flattery 
that  he  will  open  his  mouth  and  shut  his  eyes, 
and  take  it  in  a  ladle — so  he  will  just  suit  you. 

How  I  dislike  men  (in  the  abstract)  men  of  a 
certain  age  who  pretend  to  refuse  their  spoonful, 
and  all  the  while  their  honest  old  lips  are  drib- 
ling  at  the  corners.  If  you  are  moved  to  do  a 
kindness,  have  my  wife  the  day  before  I  come — 
whisk  her  to  music  or  the  play.  .  .  .  For  my 
part  I  don't  like  to  leave  my  baby  gal  alone  in 
the  house  for  more  than  one  night.  .  .  . 

I  beg  you  to  remember  me  warmly  to  your 
father  and  mother  both — and  believe  me  for 
life — Your  devoted  servant  and  lord, 

George  Meredith. 


CHAPTER  III 

In  1872  old  Dr.  Gordon  died,  but  Mrs. 
Gordon  and  her  children  continued  to  live 
at  Pixholme,  and  I  went  more  often  than 
before  to  stay  with  them. 

We  spent  long  hours  riding  over  the 
Surrev  Hills  and  Downs,  when  we  con- 
stantly  met  Mr.  Meredith  striding  along 
with  Admiral  Maxse  or  some  other 
favoured  companion. 

They  always  gave  us  c'heery  greetings 
and  hilarious  prophecies  as  to  the  disasters 
awaiting  us  if  we  rode  so  recklessly. 
Those  were  long  happy  weeks  of  irrespon- 
sible enjoyment,  and  Mr.  Meredith's  com- 
pany was  a  great  addition  to  their  gaiety. 

In  those  days  he  was  not  a  famous 
author.  He  was  only  known  to  the 
general  British  public  as  a  writer  of  novels 
very    difficult    to    understand.      He    was 

32 


MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH      33 

often  confounded  with  Owen  Meredith 
(Lord  Lytton's  pseudonym),  then  much 
more  read  and  talked  about. 

There  were  always  some  perceptive 
minds  who  appreciated  his  work,  but  they 
were  not  numerous.  For  myself  I  can 
frankly  say  that,  much  as  I  relished  his 
company  and  conversation,  I  could  not 
at  that  time  understand  his  novels  or 
poems.  He  suffered  from  being  far  in 
advance  of  his  generation,  and  he  would 
not  conform  to  anything  or  to  anybody. 

From  my  Diary 

I  notice  that  Mr.  Meredith  likes  to  hear  about 
the  people  I  meet,  the  books  I  read,  and  the 
classes  and  lectures  I  attend,  but  he  never  wants 
to  hear  my  opinion  about  anything  or  anybody. 
I  asked  him  why  ?  and  he  replied,  '  Because  I 
know  that  already.'  I  asked  him  how  it  was  that 
he  knew  so  much  about  girls  and  women,  and 
he  replied  '  It  is  my  mother  that  is  in  me.' 

I  used  to  enjoy  hearing  his  talk  about 
people  ;  his  perception  and  judgment  of 
character    was     extraordinarily    shrewd, 

c 


34  MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

One  day  he  said,  speaking  of  a  little  lady 
we  knew  : 

4  She  is  a  woman  who  has  never  had  the 
first  tadpole  wriggle  of  an  idea,'  but  he 
owned  that  '  she  has  a  mind  as  clean  and 
white  and  flat  as  plate '  (and  added 
thoughtfully),  '  there  are  no  eminences 
in  it.' 

4  The  first  tadpole  wriggle '  was  a 
favourite  expression  of  his,  when  he 
wished  to  convey  the  idea  of  the  first 
beginnings  of  thought. 

One  afternoon  we  were  all  discussing 
which  features  of  a  woman's  face  were 
most  expressive  of  her  character.  Some  of 
us  thought  the  mouth,  others  the  eyes, 
or  carriage  of  the  head,  but  Mr.  Meredith 
averred  that  the  feature  above  all  others 
that  most  betrayed  a  man's  or  a  woman's 
disposition  was  the  nostrils.  He  disliked 
and  distrusted  any  one  with  tall  narrow 
nostrils  ;  on  the  other  hand,  a  sensitive 
wide  nostril  like  a  race-horse  he  professed 
to  admire.  We  all  began  to  examine  each 
other's  noses,  and  decided  that  his  own 


MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH    35 

was  the  only  one  present  that  stood  the 
test. 

My  parents  gave  a  fancy  dress  ball,  and 
we  all  did  our  best  to  induce  Mr.  Meredith 
to  join  our  party,  and  suggested  costumes 
that  we  thought  would  be  suitable  for  him  ; 
but  he  entirely  refused  to  accept  my 
mother's  pressing  '  invitation  to  shake  a 
leg  in  an  antic  costume  ' ;  but  he  was 
curious  to  hear  what  dresses  were  being 
designed  for  other  guests. 

One  elderly  Professor  of  world-wide 
reputation  pressed  my  mother  to  send  him 
an  invitation.  The  week  after  the  ball 
I  heard  Mr.  Meredith  describe  the  joke  of 
it  to  a  mutual  friend. 

'  The  dear  old  Professor  has  but  three 
hairs,  which  float  over  his  venerable 
shoulders  when  he  attends  scientific 
gatherings,  when  I  am  informed  he  looks 
massive  and  dignified,  but  Mrs.  Brandreth 
gives  a  fancy  dress  ball,  and  lo  !  behold  ! 
the  three  hairs  are  jauntily  brushed  up 
over  his  bald  pate.  He  trips  forth  as  a 
cavalier  of  the  time  of  Charles  n.  !     His 


36    MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

form — his  form,  dear !  is  clad  in  pale  mauve 
satin,  and  lace  ruffles  !  ! '  Mr.  Meredith, 
convulsed  with  mirth  till  the  tears  ran 
down  his  cheeks,  kept  exclaiming  between 
shouts  of  laughter :  '  His  form  !  Pale 
mauve  satin  and  lace  ruffles  !  His  form  !  ' 
Both  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Meredith  enjoyed 
going  to  plays  and  concerts,  and  they 
frequently  stayed  with  my  parents  at  El- 
vaston  Place  for  a  night  or  two,  and  at 
breakfast  next  morning  Mr.  Meredith 
would  keep  us  laughing  and  listening  till 
eleven  o'clock,  and  then  we  went  our 
various  ways  with  reluctance,  for  his 
comments  and  caricatures  of  the  per- 
formers were  often  a  greater  treat  to  us 
than  the  plays  themselves. 

From  my  Diary 
Mr.  Meredith  went  with  father  and  me  to 
see  Irving  and  Mrs.  Crowe  {ne'e  Bateman)  in 
Macbeth.  During  supper  he  explained  the  act- 
ing of  the  sleep-walking  scene  to  mother,  and 
wishing  to  describe  the  way  that  Lady  Macbeth 
pushed  the  palms  of  her  hands  from  nose  to 
ear,  he  said,  '  My  dear  Mrs.  Brandreth,  I  assure 
you  that  she  came  through  her  hands  like  a 


MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH  37 

corpse    stricken   with    mania    in    the    act    of 
resurrection  ! ' 

I  sometimes  talked  with  Mr.  Meredith 
as  to  my  idea  of  a  husband,  and  I  used  to 
explain  to  him  that  what  I  wanted  specially 
was  a  'good  comrade.'  Then  he  would 
warn  me  not  to  think  too  much  of  bril- 
liancy and  wit,  but  to  realise  that,  more 
than  all  other  qualities  that  a  girl  needed 
to  find  in  her  mate,  was  dependableness, 
which  would  last  far  longer  than  the 
tinsel  attractions  that  he  professed  to 
think  I  admired.  He  said  to  my  mother 
that  '  it  was  dangerous  for  two  excitable 
people  to  wed  for  fear  their  children  should 
leap  out  of  their  cradles  in  their  desire  to 
reach  the  moon.' 

In  spite  of  his  jokes  and  sarcasm,  I 
often  found  myself  chatting  somewhat 
unreservedly  to  him  about  my  small 
flirtations  and  friendships,  and  on  this 
subject  I  found  him  a  most  attentive, 
comprehending  listener,  and  extraordin- 
arily shrewd  in  his  diagnosis  of  a  man's 
character,    though    I    must    confess    that 

211257 


38    MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

sometimes   he   would  make   very  discon- 
certing remarks. 

From  my  Diary 

Mi*.  Meredith  was  laughing  at  me  for  some  of 
my  elderly  men  friendships.  He  said,  '  My 
dearie,  you  are  like  a  soft  west  wind  blowing, 
and  you  keep  all  your  tops  softly  humming. 
Now  Mr.  A.  is  a  nice  steady  old  top  (in  fact  he 
began  to  hum  before  she  even  whipt  him),  but 
take  care  of  Mr.  B.,  he  's  leaning  a  little  over  to 
the  left,  while  Mr.  C.  hums  gently  away  without 
the  dear  girl  taking  any  trouble  about  him  at 
all.' 

Mr.  Meredith  used  to  enjoy  going  with 
my  father  and  me  to  Mr.  Dannreuther's 
concerts  in  Orme  Square.'  These  were 
particularly  pleasurable  to  him,  as,  in- 
stead of  sitting  painfully  in  rows,  com- 
fortable chairs  were  provided,  and  after 
an  excellent  performance  of  trios  and 
quartettes  and  other  chamber  music,  we 
used  to  meet  our  friends  Browning, 
George  Eliot,  and  many  well  -  known 
authors  and  musicians,  and,  later,  Wagner 
himself,  who  was  staying  with  the  Dann- 


MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH  39 

reuthers.  If  silence  reigned  during  the 
performance  of  the  music,  talk  and  jests 
continued  often  to  a  late  hour  afterwards. 
Here  is  a  letter  written  to  me  by  Mr. 
Meredith,  in  answer  to  an  invitation  to 
Orme  Square : 

My  dear  Miss  Brand reth,— I  have  too  much 
work  to  be  in  town  to-morrow,  and  my  promise 
to  myself  to  go  to  Dannreuther's  concert — next 
time,  was  but  my  way  of  saying  how  much  I 
liked  the  last.  Otherwise  the  pleasure  of  being 
led  there  by  you  would  be,  as  it  were,  to  be  pre- 
pared by  a  poet  to  sit  with  the  Muses.  I  know 
you  will  be  in  full  sympathy  with  one  who 
chances  to  have  said  more  than  he  meant,  indeed 
you  should  be  ;  for  by  and  by  (yes,  it  must  be 
so)  a  certain  door  will  have  to  be  broken  open, 
and  a  room  laid  bare  with  many  tops  in  it,  the 
humming  of  the  peg,  each  with  his  history  of 
the  one  who  spun  him. — Now  ?  so  innocently  ! 
in  my  Dannreuther  fashion,  on  that  occasion 
I  shall  come  forward  to  plead  for  you.  I  beg 
you  will  convey  to  your  mother  my  warmest 
thanks  for  her  invitation. — Your  very  devoted 

George  Meredith. 

From  my  Diary 

To-day  I  was  foolish  enough  to  say  to  Mr. 
Meredith  that  I  did  not  like  Mr.  A.  at  all,  he 


40    MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

was  stupid  and  had  no  conversation.  .  .  .  Mr. 
Meredith  pounced  on  this  and  said  : 

'  Listen  to  the  girl — no  conversation !  Once 
I  walked  down  a  lane  and  went  into  a  cemetery, 
and  behold  there  were  all  the  graves  of  those  who 
had  been  rejected  by  this  dear  girl — and  on  each 
tombstone  was  a  name,  and  beneath  each  name 
was  the  sad  epitaph  : 

"  Died  for  want  of  repartee."  ' 

One  hot  afternoon  in  the  garden  at  Pix- 
holme,  Mr.  Meredith  told  me  he  had  gone 
to  sleep  in  a  lane,  and  when  he  woke  up  he 
heard  three  beautiful  daughters  of  a  noble 
house,  who  were  amusing  themselves  mak- 
ing hay,  and  as  they  rested  from  their  toil 
this  was  the  conversation  that  he  professed 
to  have  overheard  :  * 

I.  '  My  lover  must  be  a  great  soldier 
and  conquer  the  world  with  his 
sword.' 
II.  '  And  mine  must  be  a  great  thinker 
and  win  the  hearts  of  men  with 
his  pen.' 
III.  (And  most  beautiful  of  them  all.) 
1  And  my  lover  must  be  strong 
enough  not  to  stand  my  nonsense ! ' 


MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH  41 

A  good  many  of  our  mutual  friends  sug- 
gested both  to  Mr.  Meredith  and  to  me 
that  Cecilia  Halkett  in  Beaucharrvp's  Career 
was  taken  from  myself,  as  Beauchamp  was 
undoubtedly  from  Admiral  Maxse,  and 
Blackburn  Tuckham  from  Sir  William 
Hardman,  and  we  received  several  letters 
and  rhymes  on  the  subject.  These  effusions 
caused  us  both  much  laughter  and  amuse- 
ment, and  one  day  I  asked  him  if  there  was 
any  truth  in  the  suggestion,  and  he  said — 
as  far  as  I  can  remember  his  words — that 
few  authors  entirely  copy  a  living  character, 
but  that  I  had  been  conventionally  brought 
up,  and,  being  the  only  child  of  my  parents, 
would  doubtless  have  the  same  views  as 
Cecilia,  and  under  their  influence  refuse  to 
marry  any  one  of  whom  my  father  and 
mother  did  not  entirely  approve.  This 
idea  I  violently  combated,  and  assured 
him  that  if  I  cared  enough  I  would  marry 
a  man  whatever  my  parents  said.  He 
hunched  his  shoulders  and  changed  the 
conversation. 

Later    in    life    he    often   told    me    that 


42  MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

Beauchamp's  Career  was  one  of  his  favour- 
ite works,  and  Renee  was  the  character  of 
all  others  that  he  loved  best.  Mrs.  Mere- 
dith was  greatly  chagrined  at  the  tragic 
ending  of  the  book,  and  begged  and  im- 
plored him  to  change  it,  and  there  were 
some  arguments  between  them  on  this 
subject,  but  though  he  was  sad  at  dis- 
appointing his  wife's  wishes,  he  never 
swerved  from  his  intention,  constantly 
affirming  that  it  was  the  only  possible  end 
for  Beauchamp  :  but  he  begged  my  mother 
to  take  '  my  wife  to  the  play  and  divert  her 
thoughts.' 

Mr.  Meredith  liked  talking  about  the 
characters  in  his  novels,'  but  the  very 
nearest  approach  to  a  quarrel  that  I  ever 
had  with  him  was  when  one  day  when  we 
were  walking  together,  I  stoutly  declared 
that  Rose  Jocelyn  would  never  have  talked 
to  her  lady's  maid  in  the  way  she  is  repre- 
sented as  doing  in  Evan  Harrington.  He 
declared  that  she  would,  and  she  did,  and 
he  was  really  angry  because  I  would  not 
show  myself  convinced. 


MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH    43 

From  my  Diary 

I  suggested  to  Mr.  Meredith  that  we  should 
all  enjoy  reading  his  books  so  much  more  if  he 
would  condescend  to  make  the  language  less 
involved  and  difficult  to  follow,  and  the  story 
more  easy  to  understand  ;  and  I  quoted  to  him 
the  saying  of  another  well-known  writer  :  '  I 
am  sure  I  should  enjoy  Meredith's  novels,  but 
I  have  no  time  to  read  shorthand.'  In  answer 
to  this  cool  suggestion  on  my  part,  he  replied  : 
'  Yes,  I  know  what  you  would  like  me  to  say  : 
"  She  went  upstairs,  her  heart  was  as  heavy  as 
lead,"  and  so  on  with  various  other  most  con- 
ventional phrases.' 

Mr.  Meredith  realised  that  Richard 
Feverel  and  The  Tale  of  Chloe,  or  the  poem 
Modern  Love  were  unsuited  for  the  very 
young  to  read,  and  in  the  first  edition  of 
that  poem  are  printed  the  words  : 

'  This  is  not  meat  for  little  people  nor  for 
fools.' 

He  thought  that  problems  of  this  char- 
acter should  not  be  brought  before  the 
notice  of  '  seedling  minds  '  before  they  had 
any  knowledge  or  experience  of  life. 

Beauchamp's  Career,  though  appreciated 


44  MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

by  the  elect,  was  not  a  popular  success. 
He  used  to  declare  sarcastically  that  the 
general  reading  public  wanted  all  their 
thinking  done  for  them,  and  would  refuse 
themselves  to  contribute  any  effort  to 
understand. 


CHAPTER  IV 

Mr.  Meredith's  cottage  on  the  side  of 
Box  Hill  was  not  in  itself  an  interesting 
building. 

A  little  square  house  with  a  tiny  passage, 
a  little  sitting-room  on  one  side  and  a  little 
dining-room  on  the  other.  A  staircase 
close  to  the  front  door  mounts  to  the  bed- 
rooms overhead. 

All  the  rooms  were  furnished  very  simply. 
I  remember  Mrs.  Meredith's  joy  when  she 
had  a  little  window  greenhouse  opened  in 
the  side  wall  of  her  small  sitting-room. 
There  was  a  cottage  piano  against  the 
opposite  wall,  and  that  with  two  or  three 
chairs  and  a  small  table  filled  the  room. 

But  what  delightful  memories  are  asso- 
ciated with  these  rooms  in  the  minds  of 
his  friends. 

How  joyous  was  his  welcome,  not  only  in 
the  firm  grasp  of  his  outstretched  hand,  but 

45 


46    MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

in  the  beaming  smile,  with  which  he  made 
his  friends  feel  how  truly  glad  he  was  to  see 
them,  and  when  the  hour  came  for  '  Fare- 
well '  I  do  not  ever  remember  taking  leave 
of  him  without  his  saying  '  God  bless  you,' 
and  his  eyes  gave  benediction  as  well  as  his 
words. 

A  small  carriage  drive  surrounded  with 
very  high  box  hedges  led  up  to  the  front 
door.  Behind  the  house  there  was  an 
orchard  garden  on  the  side  of  the  hill. 

The  house  was  very  small,  so  in  1876  he 
built  for  himself  at  the  top  of  his  orchard 
a  chalet  containing  a  sitting-room  and  a 
bedroom.  There  was  no  view  from  any  of 
the  windows  of  Flint  Cottage,  which  only 
looked  upon  the  high  box  hedges  surround- 
ing the  drive,  but  from  the  front  of  the 
chalet  it  was  possible  to  look  over  the  '  long 
green  rollers  of  the  Downs  '  towards  Dork- 
ing,  and  to  watch  the  shifting  clouds  and 
sunshine  down  the  valley. 

He  was  very  happy  with  the  plans  for 
his  new  study,  and  we  often  went  over 
from  Pixholme  while  it  was  being  built 


MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH  47 

to  watch  its  progress.  He  simply  gloated 
over  the  prospect  of  having  a  silent  sitting- 
room  to  himself,  where  he  could  work 
surrounded  by  his  books  free  from  in- 
terruption. 

The  chalet  was  not  quite  finished  when 
I  went  abroad  with  my  parents  to  St. 
Petersburg,  where  the  Oriental  Congress 
was  being  held.  My  father,  who  was  very 
learned  in  Oriental  languages,  was  a  dele- 
gate from  England. 

Before  we  left  London  I  wrote  to  Mr. 
Meredith  a  long  gushing  letter  about 
Swinburne's  Atalanta  in  Calydon,  which 
had  greatly  fascinated  me,  and  I  received 
in  reply  the  following  letter  : 

My  dear  Miss  Brandreth, — This  to  speed  you 
on  your  way,  with  the  assurances  that  we  poor 
abandoned  souls  look  for  your  return — with  the 
boots  of  Kazan  (large-sized  feet).  The  spelling 
of  your  letter  shows  carefulness.  But  what  do 
you  mean  by  '  sitting  not  taking  in  much  beside 
the  rhythm ?  ' 

Do  you  mean  in  addition  to  ?  or  next  neigh- 
bour to  ?  I  am  sure  you  enjoy  that  heavenly 
delight   of  young   London    ladies   in    solitude, 


48    MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

which  consists  in  the  poetic  contemplation  of 
themselves  as  looked  on  by  the  eternal  hills :  and 
to  think  you  incapable  of  this  exquisite  reverie 
is  to  be  unjust  to  you.  ...  As  to  the  Drama 
(a  play  he  was  then  writing)  it  is  ill-conceived 
as  yet.  I  have  been  very  busy ;  what  I  want  is 
to  lie  fallow  for  a  week,  and  I  can't  see  the  week. 
Pecks  of  poetry  have  been  coming  from  me. 
However,  I  will  bear  in  mind  that  you  wish  the 
thing  done.  May  fair  weather  attend  you !  I 
desire  you  to  present  my  compliments  to  your 
father  and  mother,  and  tell  them,  I  pray,  that 
my  vows  are  most  heartily  offered  for  the  com- 
fort of  their  journey,  and  against  the  prediction 
that  the  drift  of  the  Oriental  Congress  will  be 
to  Constantinople.  Adieu,  my  wife  would  send 
the  warmest  messages  were  she  presiding  over 
this  pen. — Your  faithfullest, 

George  Meredith. 

After  our  return  he  was  never  tired  of 
twitting  me  with  my  '  desertion  of  Eng- 
land,' calling  me  Princess  Popiowoski  and 
other  Russian  titles,  and  making  endless 
jokes  about  my  ■  boots  of  Kazan,'  the 
point  of  which  I  could  not  always  see. 

He  wrote  to  my  mother  : 

To  sit  with  you  all  three  and  hear  of  your  tour 
would  be  delightful,  and  what  I  hoped  for  ;   but 


— '  J* 


MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH    49 

so  it  chances,  I  am  under  plight  of  promise  to  go 
to  Brighton  to  my  friend  Mr.  Morley,  and  this 
involves  Friday  and  Saturday,  and  sad  I  am 
that  it  should.  ...  I  hear  from  Eva  that  Miss 
Brandreth  will  make  an  entry  into  our  valley 
some  time  this  month.  How  grand  it  would 
have  been  in  boots  of  Kazan  !  But  in  any  form 
it  will  be  a  wonderful  refreshment  to  us.  Please 
give  my  very  warm  regards  to  Mr.  Brandreth 
and  my  cordial  salutes  to  my  Katharine  (tamed). 
— Believe  me,  your  most  faithful  and  devoted 

George  Meredith. 

After  my  return  from  Russia  I  went 
down  to  stay  at  Pixholme,  and  found  Mr. 
Meredith  very  busy  with  literary  work  of 
all  sorts — poetry  and  prose.  The  chalet 
was  now  finished,  and  this  refuge  enabled 
him  to  escape  from  visitors  that  he  did  not 
wish  to  see,  and  to  immerse  himself  more 
and  more  in  his  work. 

He  was  not  nearly  so  easy  of  access  as  he 
had  been  before,  and  his  wife  had  strict 
orders  to  let  no  one  mount  the  garden  to 
the  chalet  during  his  hours  of  work,  and 
these  became  longer  and  more  rigidly  kept 
as  time  went  on.     No  one  dared  to  knock 

D 


50    MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

at  his  study  door,  and  the  most  we  ventured 
to  do,  in  the  hope  of  attracting  his  atten- 
tion, was  to  shout  to  the  dogs  outside  in  the 
orchard,  trusting  that  he  would  hear  and 
come  out  to  join  us  before  the  declining 
sun  forced  us  to  return  home. 

On  days  that  his  work  did  not  absorb 
him  too  much  he  was  always  glad  to  see  us, 
and  he  enjoyed  laughing  at,  and  with  me, 
over  my  Russian  travels. 

While  I  was  abroad,  I  had  heard  a  great 
deal  of  talk  with  various  learned  men,  and 
one  evening  when  I  went  up  to  see  Mr. 
Meredith  I  found  him  alone,  and  we  sat 
outside  his  chalet  door  looking  down  the 
valley,  and  I  told  him  of  my  experiences 
at  the  Congress,  and  being  very  young  at 
that  time,  I  was  perhaps  impressed  with 
an  undue  sense  of  my  own  merit  and 
importance. 

He  listened  to  my  loquacious  chatter 
attentively,  and  then  I  remember  well  the 
advice  that  he  gave  me. 

He  spoke  of  the  opening  out  of  Life's 
obligations,  and  how  earnestly  I  ought  to 


MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH    51 

guard  myself  against  self-satisfaction,  and 
make  up  my  mind  to  breast  the  waves  of 
life  with  a  stout  heart.  .  .  .  He  also  said 
that  the  worst  thing  that  could  happen  to 
any  young  man  or  woman  was  to  whisper 
to  themselves  :  '  Not  I  as  commoner  men ! ' 

As  the  only  cure  for  such  fatal  complac- 
ency he  advised  welcoming  '  the  comic 
spirit — the  sword  of  common  sense  !  ' 

I  confessed  to  him  how  much  disturbed 
I  had  been  by  the  Vicomte  de  Rosny's 
epigram,  which  he  had  told  me  himself  in 
Petersburg  :  '  Ceux  qui  croient  en  Dieu  me 
font  pitie,  et  ceux  qui  ne  croient  pas  me 
font  horreur.'  He  warned  me  against 
taking  any  epigram  too  seriously,  and, 
amongst  other  wise  things,  he  said  that 
we  should  not  ask  for  personal  gifts  in 
prayer.  He  reminded  me  of  the  saying  in 
Richard  Feverel : 

1  Who  rises  from  his  prayer  a  better 
man,  his  prayer  is  answered,'  and  added, 
with  an  intonation  that  I  shall  never 
forget :  '  My  dear,  it  is  right  and  whole- 
some  to   kneel !     A  woman   without   re- 


52    MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

ligion  is  a  weed  upon  the  waters,  or  she 
is  as  hard  as  nails  !  '  * 

After  listening  with  crimson  cheeks  to 
these  words,  I  held  my  head  low  indeed, 
but  cheered  up  a  little  when  he  said 
encouragingly  as  he  bade  me  farewell  : 
'  God  bless  you,  my  dear  !  I  have  hopes 
of  you,  you  bear  thwacks  bravely.' 

Mr.  Meredith  was  no  iconoclast,  he 
never  wanted  to  destroy  or  undermine  any 
genuine  beliefs,  however  much  he  might 
personally  disagree  with  them.  He  never 
used  conventional  phrases,  nor  spoke  on 
conventional  lines  on  matters  of  the 
spirit,  which  I  think  was  the  reason  why 
we  were  always  impressed  by  his  words, 
and  also  why  they  remained  firmly  fixed 
in  the  memory. 

Perhaps  sometimes  he  was  a  little  relent- 
less over  the '  Discomfiture  of  presumption,' 
but  I  don't  think  any  of  his  young  friends 
could  come  away  from  hearing  him  talk 
without  a  strong  desire  to  get  rid  of  self- 

1   I  found  this  well-remembered  saying  of  his  published 
later  in  The  Amazing  Marriage. 


MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH  53 

satisfaction  and  complacency,  or  without 
realising  that,  as  units  of  a  community, 
we  had  duties  and  obligations  that  we 
were  bound  to  undertake  if  we  would 
8  keep  our  souls  on  the  surface  of  the 
waters.' 

This  particular  talk  with  Mr.  Meredith 
in  front  of  his  newly-built  chalet  in  1876 
was  memorable  to  me,  because  that  day 
he  told  me  that  he  thought  his  poems  would 
outlive  his  novels,  even  though  during  his 
own  lifetime  they  were  hardly  read  at  all. 
I  asked  him  which  of  all  his  poems  he 
liked  best,  and  he  replied  at  once  : 

4  The  verse  in  Vittoria, 

Our  life  is  but  a  little  holding,  lent 

To  do  a  mighty  labour  :  we  are  one 

With    Heaven    and    the  stars,   when  it  is 

spent, 
To  serve  God's  aim.' 

And  these,  his  best  loved  lines,  I  rejoice 
to  know,  are  printed  on  the  little  marble 
book  that  his  children  have  placed  at  the 
head  of  his  grave  in  the  Dorking  Valley 
Cemetery. 


54  MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

He  was  a  great  believer  (as  all  wise  men 
are)  in  the  wholesomeness  of  work,  and 
by  his  influence  he  started  Eva  Gordon  on 
the  grim  and  somewhat  uncongenial  task 
of  translating  a  very  learned  German 
scientific  book  on  languages,  while,  on  my 
part,  I  tried  to  help  my  father  a  little  in 
his  work,  and  started  daily  classes  for  the 
shepherd  boys  in  the  Scotch  valley  where 
he  rented  a  shooting. 

After  my  return  to  London,  I  received 
this  rhymed  letter  from  Mr.  Meredith  : 

Gordon  Jim 
Life  and  limb 
Risking  cos  it  is  his  whim 
Hound  to  follow 
Breaks  his  collar- 
Bone  while  giving  the  view  holler — 
Ain't  this  news  ? 
What 's  more  it 's  true. 
There  in  bed  the  poor  lad  stews. 
His  neck  twirling 
Mr.  Curling 
Straight  has  set  like  surgeon  sterling. 

George  Meredith. 

In  the  summer  of  1877  I  became  en- 
gaged to  my  cousin,  Jim  Gordon. 


MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH    55 

Mrs.  Meredith  was  very  kind  to  me  dur- 
ing the  year  that  my  engagement  lasted. 
I  was  very  fond  of  her,  and  she  put  many 
little  pleasures  in  my  path.  Her  pretty 
rippling  hair  and  welcoming  smile  remain 
gratefully  in  my  memory,  also  her  patience, 
for  it  must  be  told  that  Mr.  Meredith  used 
to  think  out  problems  while  he  talked  to 
his  wife  and  sons,  and  sometimes,  without 
enough  consideration,  would  let  the  light- 
ning of  his  wit  play  about  their  heads. 
He  did  the  same  to  all  of  us,  but  we  only 
experienced  it  occasionally,  it  merely 
amused  and  interested  us ;  but  I  often 
admired  the  wise  if  somewhat  pained 
silence  with  which  Mrs.  Meredith  followed 
her  wayward  husband's  varying  moods, 
as  she  listened  to  his  experiments  in 
sarcasm. 

On  our  marriage  Mrs.  Meredith  pre- 
sented us  with  a  pair  of  grey  oriental 
vases  in  her  own  and  her  husband's  name  ; 
and  the  day  of  my  wedding  she  sent  me 
the  following  lines,  which  Mr.  Meredith 
had  tossed  into  the  waste- paper  basket, 


56    MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

and  which  she  had  rescued  for  me,  know- 
ing how  much  I  should  prize  them : 

April  11th,  1878. 

Now  dawns  all  waxen  to  your  seal  of  life 
This  day  which  names  you  bride  to  make  you  wife. 
Time  shows  the  solid  stamp  ;   then  see,  dear  maid, 
Round  those  joined  hands  —  our  prayers  for  you 
inlaid. 

George  and  Marie  Meredith. 


CHAPTER  V 

After  my  marriage  I  went  to  live  for  a 
while  at  Pixholme.  During  that  summer 
Robert  Louis  Stevenson  came  with  his 
mother  to  stay  at  the  Burford  Bridge  Inn, 
about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  Pixholme, 
and  he  brought  with  him  a  letter  of  intro- 
duction from  Mr.  Kegan  Paul,  the  pub- 
lisher, and  a  request  that  we  should  make 
him  acquainted  with  Mr.  Meredith,  for 
whose  novels  '  R.  L.  S.'  had  a  great 
admiration. 

In  my  diary  I  find  it  recorded  that  he 
told  us  that  he  was  '  a  true-blue  Meredith 
man.'  They  used  to  meet  constantly  in 
our  garden,  and  one  day  Stevenson  said 
to  Mr.  Meredith  : 

'  How  is  it  that  you  keep  your  heroines 
so  charming  ?  It 's  no  use  my  saying 
that  mine  are  beautiful,  and  that  every 
one   is   in  love   with   them   (mournfully), 

&7 


58    MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

they  just  turn  ugly  on  my  hands.'  He 
used  to  tell  Eva  Gordon  that  he  knew  he 
should  never  succeed  with  women,  adding 
1  reading  Meredith  has  taught  me  that.' 

Stevenson  was  a  great  dreamer,  and 
when  recounting  his  sleeping  adventures 
in  wonderland  would  say,  after  he  had 
related  a  specially  vivid  dream  :  '  That 
will  make  a  story  some  day ! ' 

Mr.  Meredith  was  very  much  interested 
in  Stevenson,  and  as  they  sat  on  the  lawn 
would  draw  many  confidences  from  the 
eager  young  author,  who  himself  had  the 
art  of  drawing  out  the  very  best  of  Mr. 
Meredith's  conversational  powers,  and  his 
best  was  a  marvel.  In  his  turn  Mr. 
Meredith  would  break  staves  of  wit  on  the 
head  of  the  younger  man,  which  he 
sturdily  parried,  returning  with  vigour 
the  elder  man's  hits. 

Their  mutual  liking  was  pleasant  to  see, 
yet  I  remember  feeling  somewhat  surprised 
when  Mr.  Meredith  prophesied  great  things 
from  Stevenson,  and  declared  that  some 
day    we    should    all   feel    proud   to   have 


MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH  59 

known  him.  This  long  happy  summer 
was  full  of  laughter  that  appealed  to  the 
brain,  as  well  as  the  heart. 

The  Gordons  were  all  great  people  for 
picnics,  and  Mr.  Meredith  would  often 
come  with  us  or  join  us  at  tea  -  time. 
Among  many  other  trivial  reminiscences, 
I  find  these  notes  in  my  Diary : 

We  had  a  picnic  on  Box  Hill,  and  when  I  rose 
to  get  the  kettle  off  the  stick  fire  for  tea,  Mr. 
Meredith  (who  was  sitting  still  himself)  called 
out  to  the  other  men  present : 

'  Lives  there  a  man  with  such  base  mettle 
To  let  a  lady  lift  a  boiling  kettle  ? ' 

After  our  picnic  on  Headley  Common  it  came 
on  to  rain,  and  as  we  drearily  trudged  down 
the  hill,  with  cloaks  and  umbrellas,  and  burdened 
with  our  tea-baskets,  Mr.  Meredith,  with  a 
grimace,  called  out  to  a  passing  friend  : 

1  Behold  !     The  funeral  of  picnic  ! ' 

One  afternoon,  in  the  garden  at  Pix- 
holme,  a  cat  sat  in  front  of  the  tea-table 
washing  her  face.  Mr.  Meredith  compared 
the  cat  '  Sahara  '  to  a  Mrs.  D.,  a  lady 
we  knew,  and  said  she  was  not  yellow,  but 


60  MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

pale  red,  washy  brown,  and  dirty  white, 
and  he  apostrophised  the  cat,  and  said : 
'  Dear  Mrs.  D.,  you  are  really  wasting  your 
time  trying  to  beautify  yourself  !  ' 

In  the  spring  of  1899  my  husband  and 
I  left  Pixholme,  and  went  to  live  in  a 
little  cottage  on  Holmwood  Common, 
about  four  miles  away.  To  inaugurate 
our  new  abode  we  gave  a  '  soap-bubble 
garden  party.'  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Meredith 
drove  over  with  Mrs.  Gordon  and  Eva. 
It  was  a  lovely  day,  the  air  was  still,  and 
the  soap  bubbles  floated  hither  and  thither, 
kept  up  by  Japanese  fans. 

Mr.  Meredith  enjoyed  the  fun.  He 
would  not  blow  soap  bubbles  himself,  but 
was  most  maliciously  eager  to  persuade 
all  the  stoutest  and  most  elderly  members 
of  the  party  to  run  about  with  their  little 
fans  after  the  fragile  bubbles.  While 
watching  Mrs.  N.  W.'s  efforts,  Mr.  Meredith 
whispered  to  me  :  '  I  am  doubly  glad  to 
see  the  dear  woman,  for  she  is  double  the 
size  she  was  when  last  I  saw  her.' 

In  later  life  Mr.  Meredith  became  more 


MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH  61 

serious  in  his  conversation,  and  in  his 
attitude  towards  life,  but  even  in  those 
days  we  were  seldom  long  in  his  company 
without  laughter.  He  himself  had  a  most 
infectious  laugh,  and  there  is  no  doubt 
that  his  sense  of  humour  was  abnormally 
developed,  and  he  could  see  comedy  and 
farce  where  it  could  not  be  distinguished 
by  duller  mortals. 

In  1880  my  daughter  Dorothy  was  born, 
and  Mr.  Meredith  took  great  interest  in 
the  child.  Unlike  most  men,  he  liked 
looking  at  little  babies,  and  vowed  that 
he  adored  them  '  in  the  comet  stage,'  that 
is,  with  a  tail  of  long  clothes.  He  came  to 
her  christening,  and  declared  that  he  had 
lost  interest  in  the  mother,  and  now  only 
cared  for  the  daughter,  and  in  future  I 
must  expect  to  receive  '  only  the  overflow 
of  his  affections.' 

We  used  often  to  see  his  eldest  son 
Arthur  when  he  came  to  stay  with  his 
father  and  stepmother  on  Box  Hill.  I 
remember  him  well  as  a  bright-eyed  and 
very  intelligent  youth,  who  talked  easily 


62  MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

and  well  on  subjects  that  he  was  interested 
in.  For  reasons  of  health,  and  also  for 
business,  in  which  later  he  was  engaged 
at  Lille,  Arthur  was  obliged  to  live  a  good 
deal  abroad,  and  having  inherited,  through 
his  uncle,  a  small  independence,  he  was 
able  to  live  his  life  on  the  lines  that  he 
preferred.  From  time  to  time  he  made  his 
appearance  at  the  Cottage,  when  it  was 
evident  that  his  father  enjoyed  his  com- 
pany, and  liked  bringing  him  over  to  see 
his  old  friends. 

One  day  I  drove  over  to  lunch  with 
Mr.  Meredith  and  Arthur  (Mrs.  Meredith 
was  away  on  a  visit)  in  our  high  dogcart, 
and  in  getting  down  from  the  elevated 
perch  caught  my  dress,  missed  my  footing, 
and  fell,  bruising  and  hurting  myself  con- 
siderably. Mr.  Meredith  was  always  a 
little  impatient  of  anything  that  delayed 
or  interrupted  conversation,  and  was  not 
over  sympathetic  at  my  mishap  and  dis- 
hevelled condition,  but  Arthur  was  solici- 
tous, and  fetched  a  servant  and  hot  water 
and  brushed  me  down,  and  I  was  grateful 


MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH    68 

to  him  for  his  kindness.  After  order  was 
restored,  we  had  a  very  pleasant  luncheon, 
when  Mr.  Meredith  was  at  his  best,  and 
revelled  in  conversation  with  his  son,  in 
his  account  of  his  experiences  abroad,  and 
more  especially  in  his  talk  about  recent 
French  books  and  publications. 

My  husband  having  been  made  electri- 
cal engineer  to  the  Telegraph  Construc- 
tion and  Maintenance  Company,  we  were 
obliged  to  give  up  our  cottage  and  went  to 
live  in  London.  He  was  very  pleased  to  be 
able  to  offer  a  position  in  the  works  to  Mr. 
Meredith's  younger  son,  William  Maxse. 

Before  leaving  our  country  home,  I  wrote 
to  tell  Mr.  Meredith  how  grateful  I  felt  to 
him  for  all  the  sturdy  advice  and  help  he 
had  given  to  me  ever  since  my  childhood, 
and  how  much  I  rejoiced  that  his  son 
would  be  with  my  husband  in  his  new 
position  at  the  works  at  Greenwich.  He 
replied  : 

My  dear  Mes.  Jim,— The  close  of  your  letter 
touches  one  of  the  deepest  chords,  to  me  very 


64  MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

thrillingly.  I  thought  in  that  time  only  of 
my  wish  to  point  a  very  promising  plant 
the  way  of  light,  and  found  its  natural  ten- 
dency thitherward  in  a  fairly  straight  line 
— with  deviations  for  the  sake  of  harmony. 
I  am  getting  to  be  more  and  more  of  a  re- 
cluse :  but  this  month  generally  London  has 
hold  of  me. 

I  shall  be  delighted  to  have  an  evening  with 
you  and  Jim,  who  has  done  more  to  move  my 
heart  to  gratitude  than  can  be  put  in  speech. 
But  when  in  London  I  will  beseech  to  be  driven 
to  you.  Will  has,  I  am  led  to  believe,  thoroughly 
taken  to  the  idea  of  studying  his  work.  I  hope 
the  study  will  follow. — I  am  very  warmly  and 
faithfully  yours,  George  Meredith. 

Mr.  Meredith  went  down  to  see  his  son 
at  work,  and  found  him  absorbed  in  cal- 
culations in  a  lean-to  corrugated  iron  hut. 
He  wrote  to  me  to  tell  me  of  his  visit, 
finishing  his  letter  with  this  rhyme  : 

When  Will  was  at  home  in  his  palace  of  zinc, 
He  had  no  room  to  move ;  but  plenty  to  think  ! 

Unfortunately  the  early  history  of  elec- 
trical lighting  in  England  was  full  of  dis- 
asters for  the  pioneers,  and  matters  did  not 


MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH    65 

develop  as  we  had  hoped  and  expected. 
I  received  many  letters  from  both  Will's 
father  and  mother  written  at  this  time, 
which  I  greatly  treasure. 

My  husband  wrote  to  ask  Mr.  Meredith 
if  he  could  get  an  important  scientific  book 
by  Professor  Clark  Maxwell  reviewed  in 
the  papers,  to  which  request  he  replied  : 

My  dear  Jim, — Greenwood  gave  me  the 
promise,  I  suppose  that  a  mere  literary  editor 
opening  the  book  must  have  recoiled  at  the 
aspect  of  the  hieroglyphic  pages.  I  can  perceive 
my  own  affright  at  being  expected  to  say  a 
candid  word  of  the  contents.  I  will  take  the 
first  opportunity  of  speaking  to  him — writing 
further  would  but  worry  :  but  I  anticipate  that 
he  will  say  he  has  no  one  on  his  staff  to  master 
a  scientific  book :  popular  though  you  may 
call  it.  But  cabalistically  popular,  we  think 
it,  who  never  hardly  pushed  a  nose,  and  that 
hastily  withdrawn  from  that  anti-chamber  of 
the  Arcana  of  figures. — I  grieved  to  miss  that 
breakfast  with  you,  your  wife  and  Butcher — now 
do  think  of  appointing  another  day  when  you 
can  join  the  hand  and  dine  and  sleep  here.  I 
breakfast  (alone)  by  new  doctor's  rules — and 
very  effective  they  are — at  eleven,  then  fast  till 


E 


66    MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

seven.  We  will  bed  Butcher  at  the  Burford — 
and  have  a  jolly  evening  !  I  am  again  in  good 
vein  for  work,  but  physically  dependent  on 
bracing  weather.  My  love  to  your  wife. — Yours 
ever  warmly,  George  Meredith. 


CHAPTER  VI 

Mrs.  Meredith's  health  had  given  much 
cause  for  grave  anxiety.  On  1st  April 
1885,  Mr.  Meredith  wrote  to  me : 

I  grieved  at  missing  you.  Will  gives  me  news 
of  you  from  time  to  time,  though  not  of  the 
'  Elvastons,'  of  whom  I  wish  to  hear.  When  I 
am  easier  in  mind  about  the  state  of  my  wife,  I 
shall  be  glad  to  propose  myself  as  the  guest  of  a 
day.  She  is  at  Eastbourne  with  her  sisters,  and 
Mariette  is  there,  and  Will  goes  down  on  Thurs- 
day; I  likewise— to  Admiral  Maxse  next  door 
for  a  week.  .  .  . 

Give  my  love  to  Jim,  it  will  not  be  lessened  by 
your  sharing  it.— Very  faithfully  ever, 

George  Meredith. 

Mrs.  Meredith's  health  became  worse  and 
worse,  and  in  June  of  that  year  all  hope  of 
her  recovery  was  abandoned,  and  she  re- 
turned with  her  husband  to  their  cottage 
on  Box  Hill.     We  were  then  living  in  a 

67 


68    MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

little  house  we  had  taken  for  the  summer 
and  autumn  months  at  Ewell,  and  I  con- 
stantly went  over  to  see  Mrs.  Meredith,  who 
suffered  terribly  during  the  last  few  months 
of  her  life.  Yet  to  the  last  she  retained  her 
pleasant  smile  of  welcome,  and  the  words 
she  wrote  in  French,  for  she  could  no 
longer  speak,  the  last  day  I  saw  her  were 
a  cheerful  jest  about  two  elderly  ladies 
whose  admiration  of  her  husband  and  his 
writing  gave  her  much  amusement. 

As  both  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Meredith  feared 
the  strain  of  her  sad  illness  on  their  voung 
daughter  Mariette,  I  wrote  asking  them  to 
send  the  child  over  to  us  at  Ewell,  to  which 
letter  Mr.  Meredith  sent  the  following 
reply : 

August  Mh,  1885. 

My  dear  Mrs.  Jim, — Your  letter  inviting 
Mariette  is  timely,  and  you  are  one  to  whom  I 
can  trust  my  Dearie.  The  child  is  getting 
strained  ;  she  wants  change  and  rest.  She  has 
done  everything  in  the  house  for  the  comfort 
of  her  mother. 

If  you  can  take  her  in  on  Thursday,  I  will 
bring    her    by    the    train    touching    Ewell    at 


MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH  69 

12.40  p.m.  Let  me  hear.  I  shall  be  bound  for 
London,  so  that  I  will  beg  you  to  send  a  maid  to 
meet  the  girl.  There  is  nothing  new  save  signs 
of  increasing  weakness.  .  .  . 

She  had  some  fear  of  the  girl's  being  put  on 
horseback  by  the  pair  of  fanatics  for  riding. 
But  I  assured  her  you  would  wait  till  the  sanc- 
tion of  the  riding  school  had  been  obtained. 
It  was  but  one  of  the  apprehensions  of  an 
invalid.  She  likes  to  think  of  the  girl  with 
you  and  Jim. 

I  will  come  and  fetch  my  Dearie.  .  .  . 

My  love  to  you  both,  our  hearts  in  thanks. 

George  Meredith. 

Death  (which  Mr.  Meredith  used  to  call 
4  the  friend  without  whom  life  were  im- 
possible') released  his  wife  on  17th  Sep- 
tember 1885,  and  that  same  day  he  came 
over  to  stay  with  us  at  Ewell  to  be  with  his 
4  dearie  girl.'  His  sad  words  *  that  imagina- 
tion makes  the  sufferings  of  those  we  love  a 
torture  to  the  mind,'  linger  in  my  memory. 

In  those  first  days  of  his  great  loss  we 
saw  a  great  deal  of  him.  Not  only  was  his 
girl  staying  with  us,  but  we  had  known  and 
tenderly  loved  his  wife.  His  sorrow  was 
sacred  to  us,  we  felt  it  a  real  privilege  to  be 


70    MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

allowed  to  try  and  help  him  during  those 
first  sad  weeks. 

I  was  not  in  good  health  at  that  time, 
and  was  therefore  prevented  from  going 
over  with  my  husband  to  Mrs.  Meredith's 
funeral  in  Dorking  Valley  Cemetery,  and 
Mariette  and  I  spent  the  day  alone  to- 
gether. After  it  was  over  I  received  the 
following  letter : 

Box  Hill,  Sept.  22nd,  1885. 

Dear  Mrs.  Jim,  —  On  Sunday  I  was  at 
Effingham  Hill.  To-night  Will  leaves  for  Nor- 
mandy, and  I  stay  here  to  see  him  start. 

To-morrow  I  will  accept  your  invitation, 
taking  Mariette  with  me  .  .  .  most  grateful 
for  your  kindness  to  the  dearie. 

We  had  sunshine  on  Monday  at  the  grave. 
I  like  the  plot  of  earth,  and  have  bought  enough 
for  the  family.  .  .  . 

Adieu,  with  my  full  love  to  you  both. 

George  Meredith. 

Box  Hill,  Oct.  15th,  1885. 

Dear  Mrs.  Jim, — We  will  do  our  best  to  enter- 
tain you  on  Tuesday,  and  with  gladness. 

Mariette  is  with  Admiral  Maxse  at  Weybridge. 
I  or  my  son  Arthur  will  bring  her  home  on 
Monday. 


MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH  71 

After  his  wife's  death  the  education  of 
his  daughter  Mariette  was  Mr.  Meredith's 
deepest  interest  and  care. 

In  my  endeavours  to  help  him,  I  inter- 
viewed governesses,  dentists,  dressmakers, 
and  music  teachers,  and  did  all  I  could  to 
aid  him  in  his  difficult  and  lonely  task ; 
but  the  best  was  barely  good  enough  for 
his  '  dearie  girl.' 

Box  Hill,  Oct.  12th,  1885. 

Dear,  Mrs.  Jim, — Your  account  of  the  lady 
you  propose  is  excellent,  and  takes  me.  It 
would  give  me  a  home  to  have  Mariette  here  with 
me  with  her,  and  I  think  my  girl  would  be 
happy.  .  .  . 

The  lady  would  have  the  prospect  of  a  dull 
life.  Could  she  bear  it  ?  If  so  verily  my  in- 
clinations are  that  way.  Madlle.  Souvestre  is 
full  at  present.  I  have  alternatively  a  good  report 
of  a  Miss  Branston,  sister  of  Archbishop  Benson's 
wife,  who  at  Croydon  has  eight  girls  in  her  house, 
and  who  is,  I  hear,  an  admirable  manager  and 
reader  of  the  genus  girl. — Yours  warmly, 

George  Meredith. 

I  think  the  various  ladies  that  he  saw 
must  have  been  bewildered  by  the  many 
drastic  admonitions  they  received. 


72    MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

I  remember  one  perplexed  English  lady, 
who  later  became  Mariette's  governess, 
after  we  had  arranged  an  interview  be- 
tween her  and  Mr.  Meredith  at  our  house, 
said  to  us. 

'  He  talked  to  me  for  a  long  time,  and 
skipped  across  the  centuries  for  examples  of 
female  education,  but  really  I  don't  know  if 
he  will  engage  me  or  not,  and  I  am  rather 
frightened  at  the  many  things  he  will  not 
permit  his  daughter  to  do.' 

He  had  very  decided  ideas  as  to  the 
meticulous  care  that  should  be  taken  in 
every  particular  of  young  growing  girls. 

He  would  never  allow  Mariette  to  travel 
alone,  even  the  very  short  distance  by 
train  from  Box  Hill  to  Ewell,  a  maid  had 
always  to  be  sent  with  her  or  to  fetch  her. 
He  never  allowed  her  to  walk  by  herself, 
and  he  was  most  particular  to  address  her 
letters  to  '  c/o  Mrs.  J.  E.  H.  Gordon.'  I 
have  heard  him  hurl  diatribes  against 
parents  or  any  one  else  writing  to  a  girl 
'  c/o  the  Master  of  the  House.'  We  tried 
to   live    up   to    all   these    injunctions.     I 


MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH  73 

realise  now  that  we  made  many  mistakes, 
but  the  poor  harassed  father  knew  that  we 
were  trying  to  do  our  best  to  help  him,  and 
was  most  affectionately  grateful  to  us  for 
our  efforts. 

Arthur  Meredith's  health  was  at  this 
time  causing  anxiety.  He  was  very  fond 
of  his  half-sister  Mariette,  and  she  went 
constantly  to  see  him  during  his  last  illness. 
Mr.  Meredith  wrote  to  me  on  18th  October 
1886. 

My  dear  Mes.  Jim, — You  must  be  full  of  work 
and  care  in  anticipation  of  Jim's  departure 
(for  America),  and  my  reply  will  not  seem  too 
tardy.  .  .  .  (Here  followed  details  about  his 
daughter's  governess.) 

Now  when  I  come  to  London  I  am  bound  to 
give  all  my  spare  time  to  my  eldest  son  (Arthur) 
lying  ill  at  St.  Thomas'  Hospital. 

With  good  speed  to  Jim  away  and  back  glory, 
profit,  health. — I  am  ever  warmly  yours, 

George  Meredith. 

Mr.  Meredith's  longer  letters  were  chiefly 
written  about  his  own  private  affairs  or 
mine,  and  are  therefore  not  suitable  for 


74  MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

publication,  but  even  his  shortest  notes 
contained  some  expression  or  turn  of 
phrase  that  led  to  their  preservation. 

Box  Hill,  May  l6tk,  1888. 

My  dear  Mrs.  Jim, — It  was  like  you  to  think 
of  the  pleasure  your  news  of  Will  (his  son) 
would  give  me,  and  act  upon  it.  .  .  .  This  year 
my  damsel  threatens  to  drag  me  to  Scotland. 
If  she  had  a  taste  for  Alpine  scenery  I  would 
take  her  to  Tyrol.  .  .  .  All  is  going  smoothly 
here.  The  Miss  attending  her  is  very  good  and 
companionable.  Some  Friday  she  may  propose 
to  visit  you  at  midday,  on  her  way  to  lessons 
with  Madame  Haas.  She  is  also  having  singing 
lessons  ;  but  she  catches  a  cold  intermittently, 
her  friends  may  still  count  on  her  paying  her 
duties  to  them.  Remember  me.  warmly  to  Jim, 
not  forgetting  Mr.  Butcher. — Your  most  faith- 
ful, George  Meredith. 

Box  Hill,  July  10th,  1888. 

Dear  Mrs.  Jim, — Our  engagements  both  in 
receiving  friends  and  going  forth  to  them  are 
close  up  to  the  time  of  our  start  for  South  Wales, 
whither  we  go  to  be  near  the  son.  ...  I  have 
had  the  intention  of  running  to  Collingham  from 
Victoria  now  and  again,  but  I  come  so  rarely 
to  town  that  when  there  I  am  at  once  taken  and 


MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH  75 

treated  as  a  cab  horse  ;  I  never  can  go  the  way 
I  would,  where  is  my  pasture.  ...  As  for  me, 
I  delight  to  be  thought  of,  but  shall  have  to 
work.  Nothing  but  duty  to  this  girl  (his 
daughter)  would  drive  me  from  home  at  present ; 
my  return  must  be  into  harness.  Very  oddly 
people  have  been  conspiring  lately  to  belabour 
me  with  invitations  to  dinner.  I  count  two  from 
persons  I  have  never  seen  ;  and  they  name 
lunch,  if  dinner  does  not  suit.  However  to 
you  I  will  always  come,  and  gladly  when  I  can. 
Give  my  love  to  Jim  and  dear  Butcher  and  my 
blessing  to  the  babes,  also  kind  messages  to  the 
Elvastons. — Your  affectionate  friend, 

George  Meredith. 

My  dear  Mrs.  Jim, — I  would  have  asked  for 
a  postponement  of  a  week,  as  I  have  a  volume 
in  hand,  and  I  dread  your  finding  my  attention 
incessantly  fixed  on  it  like  a  juggler's  eyes  on  the 
ball  he  tosses  and  catches.  But  on  the  whole  it 
is  better  for  me  to  feel  myself  due,  and  I  shall 
have  great  pleasure  in  seeing  '  Pixholme  '  and 
'  Elvastons  '  when  I  come  to  you,  besides  the 
domestic  pleasures.  I  will  not  petition  to  delay 
it,  and  will  name  Monday  the  26th  as  you  kindly 
give  me  the  choice. 

Your  servant,  admirer  and  friend  begs  you  to 
receive  the  assurance  of  his  perfect  fidelity, 
signing  himself  George  Meredith. 


CHAPTER  VII 

In  1889  I  wrote  a  book  on  Decorative  Elec- 
tricity which  had  an  ephemeral  success,  as 
it  was  the  subject  in  which  every  one  was 
interested  at  that  time. 

I  also  contributed  several  articles  to 
magazines  and  papers,  and  I  was  so  bitten 
with  the  joy  of  scribbling  that,  encouraged 
by  Mr.  Meredith,  I  wrote  a  novel  called 
Eunice  Anscombe.  He,  poor  kind  friend  ! 
read  all  the  manuscript  and  most  patiently 
corrected  and  suppressed  many  passages. 

He  was  interested  in  the  idea  that  I 
wanted  to  develop :  the  contrast  of  two 
girls,  one  whose  life  had  been  ruined  by  an 
unfathered  infant,  and  the  other,  a  young 
girl  whose  faith  in  God  had  been  under- 
mined by  a  thoughtless  man  of  the  world 
who  could  give  her  nothing  to  compensate 
for  the  shipwreck  of  her  spiritual  life. 


76 


MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH  77 

The  quotation  on  the  title-page  was 
taken  from  Diana  of  the  Crossways. 

The  light  of  every  soul  burns  upwards, 
Let  us  make  allowance  for  atmospheric  distur- 
bances. 

Mr.  Meredith  thought  the  problem  worth 
working  out,  but  he  feared  that  I  had  not 
the  skill,  or  the  patience  to  develop  it 
properly ;  and  he  pointed  out  I  had  not 
prepared  my  readers  for  the  climax  of  the 
story  by  making  them  sufficiently  in- 
terested in  the  character  of  the  heroine, 
who  he  feared  was  rather  '  colourless.' 

His  criticism  was  perfectly  just,  and  the 
novel,  though  it  received  some  good  re- 
views, was  a  failure,  as  perhaps  it  deserved 
to  be,  but  his  understanding  sympathy 
over  the  foundering  of  my  little  literary 
ship  was  great,  and  it  revealed  to  me  how 
much  he  himself  must  have  suffered  in  his 
youth  from  the  comparative  failure  of  his 
own  early  ventures.  One  day  he  said  to 
me, '  Console  yourself  by  thinking  that  you 
have  said  what  you  wanted  to  say — and 
that  is  a  very  great  gain  !  ' 


78    MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

He  was  very  fond  of  the  French  plays, 
and  he  several  times  came  to  stay  with  us 
in  London  in  order  that  he  might  enjoy 
the  delightful  acting  of  Judec,  Rejanne, 
Chaumont,  and  other  great  actresses. 

I  remember  on  one  occasion  my  husband 
and  I  went  with  him  to  see  a  play,  and 
Mr.  Meredith  was  dismayed  to  see  how 
many  young  girls  were  present  among  the 
audience,  because  the  play  was  a  risque  one, 
very  funny,  but  replete  with  the  esprit 
gaulois,  which  made  ripples  of  laughter 
pass  through  the  theatre.  He  was  so 
disconcerted  that  it  quite  spoilt  his  own 
amusement,  and  he  kept  murmuring  to  us : 
4  How  can  the  mothers  allow  their  daugh- 
ters to  remain  ?  '  We  suggested  that  most 
of  the  girls  did  not  understand  what  they 
were  laughing  at.  He  said  :  '  The  modern 
girl  being  better  educated  than  her  parents 
generally  understands  French  much  better 
than  her  mama  !  ' 

Mr.  Meredith  was  a  close  observer  when- 
ever he  went  to  a  play;  I  don't  think  he 
ever  missed  any  feature  in  the  acting,  and 


MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH  79 

when  we  returned  home  would  point  out 
to  us  shades  and  interpretations  that  we 
had  never  observed  ourselves.  He  was  an 
enthusiastic  admirer  of  Venfant  Prodigue, 
the  wordless  play.  I  twice  had  the  pleas- 
ure of  seeing  it  with  him.  The  French 
actress  who  took  the  part  of  the  old  mother 
received  his  special  commendation,  and  he 
said  after  the  performance  :  '  My  dear  ! 
Fancy  the  delight  of  sitting  opposite  that 
woman  at  breakfast  every  morning  !  ' 

About  this  time  I  was  appointed  chair- 
man of  a  small  committee  that  was  formed 
to  collect  a  representative  library  of  books 
written  by  English  women  to  send  to  the 
Women's  Building  of  the  Chicago  Ex- 
hibition. Miss  Charlotte  Yonge,  Mrs. 
Humphry  Ward,  Miss  Agnes  Clarke,  and 
Mrs.  J.  R.  Green  were  upon  this  Committee, 
and  I  found  the  work  it  entailed  of  adver- 
tising for  and  buying  the  necessary  books 
very  absorbing  and  amusing,  and  I  re- 
member feeling  quite  vexed  with  Mr. 
Meredith  that  he  would  show  nothing  but 
i  patient  inattention,'  because  he  said  that 


80  MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

literature  should  always  be  judged  as  such, 
and  consideration  as  to  which  sex  had 
produced  a  book  should  not  be  allowed  to 
influence  the  judgment  passed  upon  it ; 
and  he  refused  to  be  told  any  details  of 
our  choice  of  books,  or,  much  to  my  dis- 
appointment, to  proffer  any  advice  in  their 
selection. 

On  the  other  hand,  from  the  very  first 
he  was  interested  in  the  Suffrage,  and  his 
1  Ballad  of  Fair  Ladies  in  Revolt '  is  the 
best  expression  of  his  sympathies  and 
opinions,  hopes  and  fears,  on  that  subject. 
His  improvised  rhymes  on  Women's 
Suffrage  it  is  perhaps  more  discreet  to 
suppress,  though  they  were  extremely 
funny,  and  amused  us  all. 

He  would  often  tell  us  long  tales  and 
novels  that  he  had  in  his  mind,  and  one 
memorable  afternoon,  while  walking  on 
Box  Hill,  he  told  me  the  whole  story  of 
One  of  Our  Conquerors,  which  he  had  then 
hardly  begun  to  write,  and,  as  I  listened 
to  his  wonderful  voice  telling  of  the  tragic 
history  of    Nathalie     and     the     dawning 


MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH    81 

wonder  of  Nesta,  I  thought  it  must  surely 
prove  to  be  the  greatest  novel  in  the  world  ; 
but  though  there  are  many  powerful  scenes 
and  sayings  in  the  book,  I  confess  that 
when  the  novel  was  published  I  was  dis- 
appointed :  it  seemed  as  if  the  '  gleam,' 
8  the  light  that  never  was  on  land  or  sea,' 
had  departed  from  it,  obscured  by  the 
whirl  of  words. 

Some  other  stories  he  told  me  from  time 
to  time,  of  which,  alas !  I  only  remember 
fragments.  One  tragic  tale,  however,  I 
remember  distinctly.  It  was  the  tale  of 
two  friends  who  loved  the  same  woman  ; 
the  richer  of  the  two  married  her,  and  the 
other,  after  a  few  years  had  passed,  dis- 
covered that  his  friend's  wife  had  always 
loved  him  the  best.  She  would  have  been 
willing  to  leave  her  home,  and  depart 
with  him,  but  he  would  not  be  disloyal  to 
his  friend,  whom  he  loved  more  than  a 
brother,  and  in  desperation  shot  himself. 
He  left  no  letter  or  explanation,  and  the 
wife  had  to  tell  her  own  husband  the  story 
of  his  friend's  sacrifice.     As  he  told  this 


82  MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

story  in  the  twilight  one  summer  evening, 
it  was  full  of  dignity  and  beauty,  and  with 
passages  of  real  poetry  in  it.  I  felt  almost 
glad  to  have  only  the  memory  of  it  in  his 
spoken  words,  and  never  to  have  seen  it  in 
print. 

Another  long  story  that  lasted  several 
visits    was    of   twin    brothers    who    were 
brought  up  in  different  walks  of  life,  only 
to  know  each  other  at  the  end  of  their 
lives.     This   story   was   brought   back  to 
my  mind  when  I  read  William  de  Mor- 
gan's When  Ghost  meets  Ghost.     I  wish  to 
note  here  that  during  the  forty-one  years 
that   my   friendship    with    Mr.    Meredith 
lasted,    I   never   on   one    single    occasion 
heard  him  tell  any  story,  or  even  make 
any  remark   which  could  have   offended 
the  most  scrupulous  sense  of   propriety. 
He  was  full  of  fun  and  humour,  and  when 
enjoying  his  company  we  often  laughed 
till   our   sides   ached.     One   day   he   said 
in  my  hearing,  when  some  one  was  speaking 
about  the  comic  short  stories  of  the  famous 
French   writer   Maupassant :     c  They   are 


MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH  83 

really  improper.  You  had  better  not  read 
them ' ;  then  added,  '  /  could  be  funny  if 
I  neglected  the  proprieties  as  he  does  !  ' 

I  do  not  ever  remember  hearing  him 
swear,  but  I  do  recall  to  mind  his  declaring 
one  day  that  though  '  a  good  hearty  oath 
might  be  a  necessary  relief  to  a  man  upon 
a  critical  occasion,  the  constant  use  of 
oaths  was  a  proof  of  a  bucolic  mind  and 
a  limited  vocabulary.' 

From  my  Diary 

I  enjoyed  a  very  cheerful  tea  at  Mr.  Meredith's. 
Mr.  Arthur  Blount  (Arthur  Cecil  the  actor)  was 
there,  and  we  sat  in  the  orchard.  He  was 
exceedingly  amusing  and  made  us  all  laugh 
with  his  imitations  of  the  actresses  of  the  day, 
and  their  ideas  of  really  lady-like  deportment. 
When  he  hurried  away  to  catch  his  train,  saying 
that  he  must  return  in  time  to  eat  a  slight  meal 
before  acting,  Mr.  Meredith  called  after  him  : 

'  The  Bumble  Bee — the  Bumble  Bee, 
He  had  to  get  home  to  his  early  tea.' 

Mr.  Meredith's  deafness  was  now  in- 
creasing, and  his  infirmities  of  gait  and 
movement,   owing   to  illness,   were   more 


84    MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

noticeable,  and  in  consequence  he  did  not 
like  making  new  acquaintances,  and  pre- 
ferred to  see  his  friends  alone  if  possible. 

During  these  months  we  often  went  over 
to  see  him,  only  to  find  him  in  obvious 
pain  and  discomfort.  His  faithful  servant 
and  gardener,  Cole,  did  all  he  could  to 
help  him,  but  he  was  not  a  trained  nurse, 
and  so  he  was  not  able  to  save  his  master 
from  miserable  days  and  nights  of  illness  ; 
but  Mr.  Meredith  was  very  grateful  to 
him  for  his  well-meaning  efforts,  and  one 
afternoon  he  told  me  that  he  had  just  given 
Cole  the  manuscript  of  Richard  Feverel 
and  one  or  two  other  parts  of  novels,  for 
he  thought  that  some  day  the  gardener 
would  be  able  to  sell  them,  and  he  was  glad 
to  think  he  should  receive  some  reward 
for  his  devotion.  It  is  interesting  to  know 
that  after  Mr.  Meredith's  death  Cole  was 
able  to  sell  these  same  manuscripts  for  a 
very  large  sum.  Mr.  Meredith  was  also  in 
the  habit  of  giving  Cole  copies  of  his  own 
books.  Amongst  other  books  so  given, 
Cole  specially  treasures  a  copy  of  Harry 


MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH  85 

Richmond,    in    which     these    words     are 
written : 

Frank  Cole, 

from  his  friend, 

George  Meredith. 

A  good  servant  cancels  the  name  of  Master. 
Dec.  10th,  1899. 

That  same  day  Mr.  Meredith  said  to 
me  :  '  I  don't  feel  well,  dear.  I  feel  like 
the  acid  drop  after  the  boy  had  kept  it  a 
long  time  in  his  mouth,  when  he  says  to 
himself,  "  I  've  sucked  enough,  I  '11 
scrunch  !  "  ' 

Later  he  wrote  : 

Dear  Mrs.  Jim, — Monday  will  suit  me. 
Prithee  do  not  come  to  fast.  1000  thanks  for 
your  grandmotherly  cappy  considerateness  to 
sick  old  child.  G.  M. 

A  few  days  later  I  lunched  with  him,  and 
he  remarked  with  a  weary  sigh  :  '  My  body 
is  getting  very  old  and  infirm,  and  the 
youngster  inside  me  is  always  objecting 
to  it.' 

Dearest  Mrs.  Jim, — I  am  still  in  Dr.'s  hands, 


86  MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

the  complaint  being  this  mortal  machine  on  its 
downward  slope. 

My  love  to  you  all.  George  Meredith. 

In  1892  Mr.  Meredith  went  to  a  nursing 
home  in  London,  where  he  underwent  an 
operation.  I  went  to  see  him  there  once 
or  twice,  and  found  him  each  time  in  a 
most  jocund  mood.  He  was  immensely 
amused  by  his  first  experience  of  being 
under  an  anaesthetic,  and  those  who  knew 
him  well  will  understand  how  funny  were 
his  Arabian  Nights  experiences,  which 
he  never  forgot,  and  often  alluded  to 
afterwards. 

After  his  recovery  I  went  once  or  twice 
to  tea  with  him  at  the  Garrick  Club,  of 
which  he  was  a  member.  He  enjoyed 
showing  his  friends  the  rare  pictures 
and  drawings,  and  regaling  them  with 
the  muffins  for  which  the  Club  was 
famous. 

One  day,  down  at  Dorking,  he  said 
to  an  old  and  intimate  woman  friend 
of  his  : 

4 1  've  known  you,   my  dear,   all  your 


MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH  87 

life.  You  have  a  flighty  and  misleading 
manner,  but  behind  that  manner  you  have 
(strange  to  say)  a  remarkably  steady  and 
dependable  brain.' 

He  came  often  to  see  us  during  1892. 
He  was  very  fond  of  young  children,  and 
while  willing  to  be  helpful  about  my 
writing  ventures,  he  never  failed  to  point 
out  that  the  '  services  of  the  nest '  was 
the  first  duty  of  mothers  with  young 
children. 

Once  while  he  was  staying  with  us  an 
accident  happened  to  my  baby ;  and 
when  the  doctor  had  paid  his  visit  and 
calmed  our  fears,  I  found  that  my  guest 
had  departed,  without  even  waiting  for 
his  luggage,  which  had  to  be  sent  after 
him,  so  afraid  was  he  (as  he  explained  in 
a  letter)  of  '  taking  up  the  mother's  time, 
and  distracting  the  household's  attention 
from  the  infant.' 

About  this  time  his  youngest  son, 
William  Maxse,  became  engaged  to  Miss 
Elliot,  and  naturally  my  husband  and  I 
took  the  keenest  friendly  interest  in  the 


88    MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

affair.     In  answer  to  a  letter  I  wrote  to 
Mr.  Meredith,  he  replied  : 

Feb.  Uh,  1892. 

Dearest  Mrs.  Jim, — Riette  has  gone  to  town 
to-day,  and  as  she  has  been  going  for  several 
weeks  of  late,  you  might  hold  over  your  hospit- 
able invitations — till  we  both  can  come  ?  I 
shall  read  your  new  work  (the  novel  Eunice 
Anscombe)  in  serious  mood  be  assured.  There 
is  a  copy  of  Modern  Love  that  was  destined  for 
you,  but  is  at  present  in  air  midway  between  the 
publisher  and  me.  .  .  . 

Will's  affair  will  have  to  depend  on  his  worldly 
affairs.  .  .  .  Ask  Jim  whether  his  whirring 
dynamo  of  a  brain  has  flung  to  nothing  Will's 
questions — and  be  so  good  as  to  send  poor  Will 
a  word.  .  .  . 

The  damsel  is  one  worth  having,  favourable 
under  a  smiling  sky  ;  and  you  would  warmly 
approve  her  person,  her  nature,  her  accomplish- 
ments and  her  conditions.     My  love  to  you  all. 

George  Meredith. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

On  3rd  February  1893  Mr.  Gordon  was 
killed  by  his  horse  falling  with  him. 
Mr.  Meredith  wrote  to  me  : 

Feb.  Uh,  1893. 

Dearest  Friend, — My  hopes  and  thoughts 
are  with  you.  I  cannot  ask  you  to  be  comforted 
— under  such  a  blow  the  soul  is  on  the  waters 
and  must  swim  of  its  own  strength.  I  have  faith 
in  your  strength,  that  is  all  I  can  say.  For  me 
it  is  also  a  blow — and  it  will  be  to  Will,  and  I 
think  of  the  mother  as  well  as  the  wife. 

My  condition  forbids  moving  or  I  would  come 
to  town,  on  the  chance  of  two  minutes.  But 
yet,  at  this  moment,  you  are  better  away, 
perhaps,  even  from  friends. 

Know  them  to  be  with  you  in  spirit  as  mine  is. 
— Tenderly  yours,  George  Meredith. 

For  some  time  my  life  was  very  unhappy 
and  unsettled. 

In  the  spring  I  went  to  stay  for  a  day  or 
two  with  Mr.  Meredith  and  his  daughter 
at  the  Cottage. 


90    MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

From  my  Diary,  April  1893. 

I  went  down  to  Box  Hill  to  stay  with  the 
Merediths,  and  found  no  sentiment  but  a  wise 
1  surgeon  friend.'  He  said  to  me,  '  You  have 
now  been  given  the  opportunity  of  your  life — 
and  will  you  sink  beneath  the  waters  ? 

You  have  a  mind  :   use  it,  or  it  will  bite  you. 

You  have  had  the  advantage  of  a  very  good 
and  careful  education,  but  the  great  disadvan- 
tage of  only  seeing  life  from  one  point  of  view. 

Many  other  councils  he  gave  me,  and 
his  bracing  friendship  was  the  greatest 
value  to  me  during  those  difficult  days. 
I  think  one  reason  why  his  advice  was  so 
helpful  to  any  friend,  in  anxieties  and  per- 
plexities, was  that  he  always  appealed  to 
the  heart  and  brain,  and  not  to  the  emo- 
tions. No  teacher  of  Vedic  philosophy 
could  be  more  scrupulously  careful  than 
he  was  to  avoid  purely  emotional  appeals. 

Amongst  other  visitors  at  Flint  Cottage, 
I  constantly  met  Mr.  X.,  one  of  his  very 
oldest  friends. 

One  summer  evening  as  Mr.  X.  and  I 
walked  back  to  the  station  and  travelled 
back  to  London  together,  he  told  me  the 


MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH  91 

early  history  of  Mr.  Meredith's  first 
marriage,  and  early  literary  struggles  to 
maintain  himself.  Upon  all  these  matters 
Mr.  X.  had  accurate  and  trustworthy 
contemporary  information.  It  was  a  very 
moving  story  that  he  related,  and  every 
detail  remains  in  my  memory.  All  that 
I  can  say  of  it  here  is  that  the  history  of 
his  engagement  to  his  first  wife,  and  of  his 
relations  with  her  generally,  was  very 
different  from  that  suggested  in  a  recent 
publication. 

His  first  wife,  Mrs.  Nicolls,  was  the 
only  daughter  of  Thomas  Love  Peacock, 
the  author,  for  whose  writings  Mr.  Mere- 
dith always  professed  the  most  sincere 
admiration.  The  first  book  he  ever  pub- 
lished, in  1851,  a  volume  of  poems,  bears 
this  inscription : 

To 

THOMAS  LOVE  PEACOCK,  Esq. 

this  volume 

is  dedicated  with  the  profound  admiration  and 

affectionate  respect  of  his 

Son-in-Law. 

W*ybriix»e,  May  1851. 


y 


92  MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

He  used  to  declare  that  it  was  a  great 
advantage  to  him  in  his  youth  to  have 
been  associated  with  Peacock,  and  that 
Peacock's  writings  had  been  a  great  model 
for  him.  It  is  quite  easy  in  comparing  the 
novels  of  Mr.  Meredith  with  those  of  his 
father-in-law  to  trace  the  influence  that 
helped  to  form  his  style,  and  in  doing  so 
perhaps  to  regret  that  he  had  not  chosen 
another  model. 

One  day  I  received  a  request  from  the 
editor  of  a  well-known  magazine  to  con- 
tribute an  article  upon  '  George  Meredith.' 
I,  of  course,  refused  at  once,  but  thinking 
it  would  amuse  Mr.  Meredith  to  hear  about 
it  I  told  him  of  the  proposal.  He  got  quite 
warm  upon  the  subject,  and  I  find  it  re- 
corded in  my  diary  that : 

I  told  Mr.  Meredith  about  Mr.  wanting 

me  to  write  an  article  in  his  magazine  about 
1  George  Meredith,'  and  he  said  :  '  Never  write 
anything  about  me.  Never !  My  books  are 
never  read,  so  why  should  any  one  want  to  know 
about  me  ?  No,  my  dear  !  don't  do  it  I  You 
know  me  too  well !  ' 

I  promised  him  I  would  not,  but,  after  a  pause, 
I  said  to  him  :    '  I  will  never  write  about  you, 


MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH  93 

unless  after  your  death  some  person  who  does 
not  know  you  well  should  write  about  you 
unworthily  so  as  to  give  a  wrong  impression 
.  .  .  then  I  shall  consider  myself  absolved  from 
this  promise  and  shall  try  my  little  best  to  tell 
of  the  "  George  Meredith  "  as  I  knew  him,  and 
what  his  friendship  has  been  to  me.'  He 
shrugged  his  shoulders. 

On  another  occasion  I  told  him  I  had 
been  asked  to  write  a  series  of  papers  about 
the  heroines  of  his  novels,  and  he  seemed 
to  like  this  idea,  and  promised  me  to  do  all 
he  could  to  help  me,  and  when  I  bid  him 
good-bye  he  reminded  me  with  a  humor- 
ous smile  to  remember  that  Ren6e  and  not 
Cecilia  in  Beauchamp's  Career  was  his  best 
beloved  character — and  I  was  to  be  sure 
not  to  forget  it. 

This  project  never  matured.  It  was  a 
great  loss  for  me  personally  to  have  missed 
the  pleasure  of  talking  over  his  heroines 
with  their  creator ;  otherwise  I  have  no 
regrets,  as  I  am  sure  that  my  capabilities 
would  never  have  been  equal  to  the  task 
of  writing  worthily  of  Lucy  Feverel, 
Ithoda  Fleming,  Sandra  Belloni,  and 
Diana  of  the  Crossways. 


CHAPTER  IX 

Mr.  Meredith  used  to  express  opinions 
upon  the  contemporary  writings  of  his  day , 
as  well  as  on  the  great  authors  of  former 
times,  very  frankly. 

His  remarks  upon  the  writings  of  many 
famous  living  authors  were  illuminating 
and  amusing ;  but  for  obvious  reasons  it 
seems  undesirable  to  publish  them,  and  I 
am  sure  he  would  not  have  wished  that  the 
casual  remarks  passed  during  conversation 
should  be  printed  and  given  to  the  world  as 
his  considered  opinions. 

No  one  disliked  more  than  he  did  ex- 
aggerated praise  of  any  kind  on  any  sub- 
ject. As  he  often  said  to  young  writers, 
'  superlatives  weaken  style,  and  to  praise 
with  discrimination  is  a  task  to  strain  the 
powers  of  the  most  capable  of  reviewers.' 

I  have  often  thought  that  there  is  a 
perverse  streak  in  the  dispositions  of  men 

M 


MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH  95 

—from  which  Mr.  Meredith  was  no  more 
exempt  than  any  other  man— that  makes 
them  dislike  to  hear  expressions  of  admira- 
tion, while  women,  on  the  contrary,  love 
to  hear  praise. 

Being  myself  an  enthusiastic  admirer  of 
Jane  Austen's  novels,  I  could  not  induce 
him  to  share,  or  even  tolerate,  my  eulogies 
upon  her  style  and  presentment  of  char- 
acter. Indeed,  one  day  he  declared  that 
the  heroines  of  her  books  were  wanting  in 
refinement ;  if  any  one  else  had  written 
Pride  and  Prejudice  he  should  consider  that 
the  Miss  Bennets  could  at  times  be  vulgar. 
Jane  Austen's  heroes  he  frankly  detested, 
and  made  us  laugh  heartily  with  speeches 
caricaturing  her  style,  made  by  priggish 
young  gentlemen  to  the  maidens  of  their 
choice. 

One  afternoon  I  talked  with  him  about 
the  writings  of  c  Fiona  Macleod,'  and  he 
told  me  that  he  knew  that '  Fiona  Macleod,' 
the  mystical  writer,  was  really  William 
Sharpe,  but  he  sincerely  hoped  that  Mr. 
Sharpe   would  never  know  that  he  had 


96  MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

penetrated  the  secret  of  his  pseudonym. 
He  admired  his  work,  and  had  the  deepest 
comprehension  of  and  sympathy  with  his 
wish  '  to  hide  his  journalistic  appearance 
under  a  veil.' 

We  were  talking  about  the  poems  and 
drawings  of  William  Blake.  Then  turning 
the  conversation  too  quickly,  I  said  that  I 
was  always  so  much  interested  in  anything 
that  was  written  about  the  devil.  Mr. 
Meredith,  pretending  to  be  deaf  (he  often 
had  a  rather  effective  way  of  doing  this),  said 
*  I  am  so  fond  of  his  songs  of  Innocence  !  ' 

Speaking  of  Walt  Whitman,  I  asked  him 
if  he  did  not  agree  that  he  might  be  of  use 
at  certain  crucial  times  in  people's  lives, 
and  suggested  that  his  4  Song  of  those  who 
have  failed  '  might  prove  a  help  to  the  un- 
fortunate. Then  he  told  me  that  his 
sonnet  4  An  Orson  of  the  Muse  '  was  in- 
tended for  Walt  Whitman,  many  of  whose 
poems  he  admired,  but  that  he  feared  that 
his  teachings 

Must  sink  beneath  the  tide-waves  of  their  weight, 
If  in  no  vessel  built  for  sea  they  swim, 


MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH  97 

meaning  that  his  language  and  style  were 
too  uncouth  and  undisciplined  to  carry  his 
thoughts  safely  through  the  ages. 

One  day  he  said  to  me  that  4  if  any  one 
wanted  to  make  money  in  literature  now- 
adays they  had  better  write  a  risque 
novel,  and  then  go  to  Mr.  Stead  and  look 
into  his  "  North  Sea  eyes  "  and  say  "  I  am 
a  nail,  drive  me  in  ! '  Then  Stead  with  a 
Nasmyth  hammer  would  drive  you  straight 
into  the  brain  of  the  British  public  !  ' 

Another  day,  after  he  had  been  reading 
French  Memoirs,  of  which  he  was  especially 
fond,  he  pretended  to  have  found  this  story  : 

'  Once  upon  a  time  a  very  wicked  man 
died  and  went  down  to  hell — he  had  been 
so  very  wicked  that  he  was  received  with 
acclamations  by  the  crowds  in  the  streets, 
and  his  Satanic  Majesty  himself  came  down 
his  palace  steps  to  receive  him.  and  with  an 
indulgent  smile  shook  his  finger  at  him  and 
exclaimed  :  '  Mais  vous  avez  un  peu  depasse 
mes  ordres.' 

Referring  to  Martin  Tupper,  he  said  he 
was  a  '  cold  hash  of  Solomon.'     As  to  A.  B., 

G 


98    MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

a  minor  poet  much  read  at  that  time,  he 
described  him  as  a  '  badly  made  blanc- 
mange.' 

Mr.  Meredith  often  talked  about  the  con- 
struction of  the  '  Short  Storv,'  for  which 
there  is  always  a  steady  demand  for  use  in 
magazines  and  weekly  provincial  papers. 
He  considered  there  were  few  short  stories 
of  merit  written  in  the  English  language, 
and  to  find  the  really  artistically  told  tale 
we  must  go  to  the  French.  He  agreed 
that  the  short  stories  of  Kipling  were  (with 
some  exceptions  that  he  mentioned)  hors 
concours,  and  then  he  proceeded  to  speak 
of  the  writings  of  '  Q  '  which  he  greatly 
admired.  He  then  read  aloud  the  story 
called  The  May  Morning,  and  declared  that 
it  was  one  of  the  very  best  in  the  English 
language,  '  full  of  an  admirable  and  rare 
combination  of  pathos  and  reticence.' 

He  recommended  authors  to  study  the 
writings  of  Laf cadio  Hearn,  as  he  considered 
that  '  his  style  was  so  admirably  adapted 
in  every  case  to  the  impression  he  wished  to 
convey.'     He  thought  some  of  his  special 


MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH     99 

faculty  was  due  to  his  cosmopolitan  origin 
and  environments,  as  his  father  was  Irish, 
his  mother  a  Greek,  and  he  was  educated 
and  lived  in  America  during  his  early  life, 
and  afterwards  married  a  Japanese  lady 
and  lived  and  taught  in  Japan. 

Of  '  Gyp  '  he  said  that  among  her  very 
amusing  but  ephemeral  writings  there 
was  one  novel  that  deserved  to  live — Une 
Passionette,  and  added  :  '  Of  course,  that  is 
just  the  one  book  of  hers  that  is  least  read 
by  the  public' 

One  afternoon  I  found  him  reading 
Faguet's  book  on  Nietzsche.  I  don't  think 
he  liked  Nietzsche  :  he  thought  his  upside- 
down  ideas  could  not  be  of  any  benefit  to 
women,  though  they  might  have  some  value 
for  '  aged  men  like  himself.' 

One  day  we  were  talking  about  Balzac. 
I  had  arrived  hot  with  admiration  from 
the  perusal  of  Illusions  Perdues,  and  was 
pleased  to  find  that  he  fully  shared  my 
enthusiasm  for  that  book. 

He  used  to  amuse  himself  by  looking 
through  the  advertisements  in  the  daily 


100    MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

papers.  He  would  say,  half  in  jest,  that 
they  were  to  his  mind  the  most  instructive 
part  of  the  paper.  He  would  read  them 
out,  and  then  start  making  up  stories, 
tragic,  funny,  and  farcical,  about  the  people 
who  had  inserted  them,  and  declared  that 
he  was  certain  many  authors  had  obtained 
ideas  for  their  stories  from  the  advertise- 
ment pages.  Knowing  this  habit  of  his, 
we  sometimes  brought  him  cuttings  from 
the  agony  columns  and  advertisement 
pages  of  the  papers.  I  remember  well  his 
amusement  at  an  advertisement  we  had 
cut  from  the  pages  of  the  Daily  Telegraph  : 

Wanted  by  a  firm  of  butchers  .  .  . 

A  Christian  young  man  to  do  the  killing. 

I  once  sent  him  a  verse  written  by  a 
very  clever  child  of  thirteen  years  of  age 
to  my  dog,  a  tiny  black  Pomeranian : 

TO  BERTIE  BUTCHER,  EGOIST 

Truly  this  dog  in  mind  hath  soar'd  to  distances 
sublime, 

Far,  far  beyond  all  human  things — except  at  dinner- 
time. 


MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH    101 

Unbending,  reticent  and  of  demeanour  most  severe, 
To  blandishments  of  alien  tongues  impervious  is  his 

ear. 
Wondrous  in  sooth  it  is  to  me — wondrous  to  one  and 

all 
To  find  his  inner  soul  so  great,  his  outer  form  so 

small. 
Amid  a  crowd  of  worshippers,  living  his  life  alone, 
In  contemplation  of  the  great  and  glorious  Number 

One  ! 
Bow  down,  bow  down,  ye  lower  minds — cursed  who 

dares  deride 
This  little  dog  composed  of  tail,  and  little  else  but 

pride : 

and    received    in    answer    the    following 
letter : 

Box  Hill, 
Dorking,  Oct.  1,  1901. 

My  dear  Mrs.  Butcher, — The  child  is  re- 
markable. I  hope  she  will  be  carefully  trained 
(not  pedantically  and  not  made  conceited  by 
tasks  for  exhibition  of  her  powers) ;  left  to  run 
between  tuition  and  wildness.  It  may  be  a 
precocious  aptitude.  The  like  has  been  seen 
and  it  passes.  The  humour  gives  me  warmer 
anticipations,  for  quality  is  there,  and  that  does 
not  pass.  If  she  has  a  big  head,  her  present 
quickness  is  very  promising. 

My  love  to  Dorothy,  the  overflow  to  you. — 

George  Meredith. 


102    MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

As  he  seemed  interested  in  M.  (the  young 
authoress),  I  forwarded  him  some  more  of 
her  verses,  and,  after  reading  them,  he 
replied  : 

Box  Hill, 
Dorking,  Oct.  20,  1901. 

My  dear  Mrs.  Butcher, — It  may  be 
grained  in  this  very  remarkable  child,  or  still 
be  no  more  than  a  mere  wonderfully  precocious 
talent.  She  has  the  music  of  verse.  I  have  not 
seen  any  failure,  either  of  redundancy  or  halting, 
in  a  line.  She  requires,  of  course,  affectionate 
interest,  but  not  such  encouragement  as  the 
seeing  her  verses  in  print.  That  may  have  the 
effect  of  stamping  her  turns  of  expression  on 
her  mind  and  words.  But  genius  will  in  the  end 
overcome  anything.  The  two  pieces  you  point 
to  are  excellent.  I  do  trust  that  no  noise  will 
be  made  about  M.  for  some  years.  .  .  .  For 
your  '  toujours  perdrix '  my  thanks  run  to  my 
last  coppers.     Most  warmly, 

George  Meredith. 

In  these  days,  when  a  free  run  of  the 
library  bookshelves  is  often  advocated 
for  girls,  it  is  of  interest  to  record  how 
much  Mr.  Meredith  insisted  upon  great 
care  in  the  choice  of  books  for  the  young. 


MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH    103 

This  is  all  the  more  worthy  of  notice  when 
we  remember  that  he  was  from  first  to 
last  the  apostle  of  liberty  for  women, 
but  it  must  be  a  sane  and  wholesome 
liberty. 


CHAPTER  X 

In  1894  Mr.  Meredith's  daughter  Mariette 
married  Mr.  Henry  Parkman  Sturgis. 
She  went  to  live  at  Givons,  near  Leather- 
head,  about  two  and  a  half  miles  from  her 
father's  cottage. 

The  distance  was  not  great,  and  she 
went  over  constantly  to  see  him,  and  to 
write  letters  for  him,  and  to  help  him 
entertain  his  friends,  but  naturallv  her 
new  life  occupied  her  time,  and  Mr.  Mere- 
dith was  left  more  alone.,  But  he  was 
never  bored  with  his  own  company,  his 
own  mind  was  a  constant  amusement  to 
him,  and  his  work  occupied  his  thoughts 
which  often  made  him  a  little  impatient 
of  interruption. 

Mr.  Meredith  liked  his  friends  to  tell 
him  their  anxieties  and  difficulties  about 
the  upbringing  of  their  children.  He 
was    always    much    interested    in    young 

104 


MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH  105 

people  and  their  aspirations ;  and  he 
would  quote  to  us  from  his  own  poems 
the  lines  : 

Thou  under  stress  of  the  strife, 
Shalt  hear  for  sustainment  supreme 
The  cry  of  the  conscience  of  Life  : 
Keep  the  young  generation  in  liail 
And  bequeath  them  no  tumbled  house. 

I  once  consulted  him  about  my  daughter 
Dorothy's  wish  to  leave  her  own  home  and 
work  among  the  poor  in  the  East  End.  I 
was  greatly  perplexed  as  to  what  I  had 
better  do  in  the  matter.  On  the  whole,  I 
think  Mr.  Meredith's  sympathies  were  more 
with  the  girl  than  with  her  mother.  In 
answer  to  a  letter  from  me  he  wrote  : 

I  feared  to  touch  on  a  sore  in  writing  to  you. 
.  .  .  These  young  women,  when  they  determine 
on  an  independent  course,  obey  a  healthy  im- 
pulse of  their  natures  and  are  promising  well 
for  the  future  of  their  race.  I  can  even  feel  the 
loss  a  mother  looking  for  companionship  and 
immediate  sympathy  must  sustain ;  when  I 
say  that,  it  should  not  be  left  to  remain  a  wound, 
and  I  have  confidence  both  in  your  heart  and 
in  your  clear  head.  You  will  see  it  to  be  a 
matter   of   character — which    is   full   of  better 


106    MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

things  to  come  than  if  the  girl  were  quiescent. 
Forgive  me  for  touching  on  it — Dorothy  binds 
me  more  closely  to  my  old  friend.  That  is 
what  love  means. 

Knowing  his  interest  in  the  young,  I 
used  to  talk  to  him  about  the  perplexities 
of  my  women  friends  as  to  the  upbringing 
of  their  children,  both  boys  and  girls,  and 
the  growing  tendencies  of  young  people 
of  our  time  to  independence  and  self- 
complacency.  In  this  connection  he  said 
to  me  :  '  Nothing  against  Nature  can  be 
right,  nor  can  it  endure.  A  tree  must 
be  well  rooted  in  earth  before  it  can  bear 
leaves  or  flowers.' 

We  talked  of  the  influence  of  the  Roman 
Catholic  Church  upon  certain  types  of 
mind.  I  think  no  form  of  sacerdotal 
religion  appealed  to  him  much,  but  he 
acknowledged  '  that  he  was  constrained 
to  admire  the  practical  teaching  and  skill 
of  that  church  in  guiding  souls.' 

One  afternoon  Miss  M.  was  speaking  to 
him  in  rapturous  terms  of  the  strenuous 
work  of  some  girl  she  knew  at  a  London 


MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH  107 

Mission.       Mr.     Meredith,    who    disliked 

superlatives    (he     has    been    called    the 

'  Apostle   of    Sanity '),   quoted    from   his 

poem  '  Jump  to  Glory  Jane  '  the  lines : 

An   endless  holiday  they  had  of  pleasure  in  a 
serious  work. 

He  went  on  to  speak  of  the  dangers  to  the 
young,  of  their  own  haste  '  to  leap  to  seats 
angelical,'  and  of  the  consequent  evils 
of  spiritual  complacency.  He  feared  the 
subtle  effect  of  asceticism  upon  character, 
and  one  day,  when  we  were  discussing 
the  dominating  influence  of  Ritualistic 
Church  teaching  on  the  young,  he  said 
that  '  a  girl  under  the  obsession  of  these 
ideas  was  like  a  tall  tower  with  windows 
on  one  side  only.' 

Speaking  of  the  dangers  of  spiritual 
complacency — a  subject  on  which  he  was 
always  eloquent  and  emphatic, — he  re- 
minded me  of  these  lines  in  his  '  Song  of 

Theodilinda ' : 

God's  own  gifts 
Have  a  devil  for  the  weak ; 
Yea,  the  very  force  that  lifts 
Finds  the  vessel's  secret  leak. 


108    MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

He  deprecated  sarcasm  and  irony  in 
dealing  with  enthusiastic  feminine  natures, 
but,  as  always,  he  commended  laughter 
as  the  most  splendid  corrective  to  com- 
placency, and  said  '  that  a  woman  should 
train  herself  to  look  at  herself  from  out- 
side, and  to  learn,  or  rather  teach  herself, 
to  laugh  at  herself.  I  call  to  mind  the 
closing  verses  of  his  poem,  '  The  Appease- 
ment of  Demeter ' : 

Laughter !     O  thou  reviver  of  sick  Earth  ! 

Good  for  the  spirit,  good 
For  body,  thou  !   to  both  art  wine  and  bread  ! 

The  words  Fortitude,  Foresight,  and 
Patience,  were  constantly  used  by  him, 
and  these  three  words  as  spoken  by  him 
were  a  sermon  in  themselves. 

One  day  a  friend  of  his  was  discussing 
with  him  the  summer  plans  that  he  was 
making  for  his  daughters — two  very 
fashionable  young  ladies.  Mr.  Meredith 
was  of  opinion  that  it  was  very  good  for 
the  young  to  see  beautiful  scenery,  and 
he  urged  the  father  to  take  his  girls  to  the 
Tyrol  for  their  holidays. 


MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH  109 

The  gentleman  pursed  his  lips,  and 
did  not  reply,  so  Mr.  Meredith  turned 
to  us  and  said  in  a  tone  of  amused  pity  : 
1  The  Alps.  The  Alps  indeed  !  The  dear 
girls  would  liefer  look  at  the  Albert 
Hall !  ' 

He  was  amused  by  my  suggestion  that 
the  modern  mother  was  much  like  a  be- 
wildered wren  when  she  discovered  that 
her  nest  was  full  of  aspiring  cuckoos,  and 
by  the  new  version  of  the  Fifth  Command- 
ment sent  to  me  by  a  friend  : 

'  Honour  thy  son  and  thy  daughter  that 
thy  days  may  be  allowed  to  linger  in  the 
land.' 

One  day,  talking  of  the  value  of  laughter, 
I  told  him  how  much  I  regretted  that  I 
had  not  inherited  mv  mother's  natural 
sense  of  fun,  though  at  times  I  had  found 
this  same  sense  of  fun  very  embarrassing 
when  I  was  a  girl,  and  he  said  : 

'  No  real  egoist,  man  or  woman,  has  a 
strong  sense  of  humour,  yet  it  may  be 
developed  when  a  need  of  it  exists,  and  it 
may  be  encouraged   and   trained  to  look 


110  MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

at  situations  ironically,  especially  when  we 
ourselves  are  concerned.' 

I  told  him  that  a  dignitary  of  the  Church 
had  said  to  me  '  that  a  sense  of  humour 
was  a  special  gift  from  above.'  '  Yes,' 
he  exclaimed,  '  and  in  the  old  mythology 
the  gods  themselves  came  to  no  good  after 
they  had  kicked  Momus  (the  comic  spirit) 
out  of  Olympus.' 

I  used  sometimes  to  trv  and  talk  to 

Mi 

him  about  Buddhist  teaching  and  Vedic 
philosophy,  and  reminded  him  that  the 
Buddha  had  sat  under  a  tree  for  years  and 
years  to  think  and  gain  wisdom  in  order  to 
help  the  people,  and  that  in  the  Vedas 
was  to  be  found  that  oneness  with  Nature 
that  he  always  advocated  himself.  But  he 
would  have  none  of  it,  nor  could  I  induce 
him  to  read  any  recent  books  published 
on  the  subject. 

It  was  his  opinion  that  Oriental  religious 
ideas  taught  the  negation  of  life.  He  him- 
self thought  that  we  should  accept  life 
and  all  the  experiences  that  come  to  us  as 
part  of  our  spiritual  training.     The  body 


MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH  111 

should  be  dominated  and  disciplined,  not 
starved  and  denied.  His  ideas  on  this 
question  are  accurately  expressed  in  the 
following  quotation  : 

1  It  is  the  extremest  expression  of  the 
European  as  opposed  to  the  Asiatic  mind, 
the  very  antipodes  of  Eastern  Asceticism. 
The  body  and  its  senses  are  necessary  and 
good  to  be  trained  to  do  their  work,  not 
to  be  starved  out  of  existence.  If  a  man 
tries  to  escape  from  his  body,  still  more 
if  he  tries  to  escape  from  his  brain,  and 
brains  hold  on  fast  and  allow  spirit  to 
contradict  mind,  there  is  no  way  out  for 
him. 

'  Earth  will  be  accepted  before  she 
helps  ! ' 

Our  lives  should,  in  his  own  words, 
'  be  steered  a  true  course  between  the 
Ascetic  rocks  and  the  Sensual  whirl- 
pools.' 

He  suggested  in  his  poems  and  in  his 
conversation  with  intimate  friends  that 
it  was  a  waste  of  effort  that  might  be 
expended   more   profitably,    to  keep  ask- 


112    MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

ing     '  the    questions    that    sow    not    nor 
spin.' 

•  •  •  •  • 

(Of)  the  whither,  whose  echo  is  whence. 

I  was  gradually  becoming  extremely 
fond  of  Mr.  Meredith's  poems.  I  read 
them  constantly,  and  came  to  understand 
them  better.  Greatly  as  I  admire  his 
novels,  I  have  always  preferred  his  poetry. 
During  our  talks  he  would  speak  lines  out 
of  them  to  illustrate  his  arguments,  know- 
ing that  I  was  beginning  to  appreciate 
them,  and  partly  to  understand  their 
meaning. 

Speaking  one  day  of  the  Japanese  say- 
ing with  reference  to  any  conduct  or  words 
that  are  not  worthy  :  '  It  is  not  poetry,' 
he  said  eagerly.  '  Yes,  that 's  just  what 
I  say  in  the  "  Empty  Purse,"  '  and  he 
quoted  the  lines  : — 

Is  it  accepted  of  song  ? 

Does  it  sound  to  the  mind  through  the  ear 

Right,  sober,  pure,  sane  ?     Has  it  disciplined  feet  ? 

Thou  wilt  find  it  a  test  severe, 

Unerring  whatever  the  theme. 


MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH  113 

My  note  in  my  diary  on  this  day  was  : 

I  think  Mr.  Meredith  cares  a  great  deal  about 
his  poems,  as  into  them  he  has  packed,  condensed, 
and  compressed  all  his  philosophy  of  life. 

As  his  health  grew  increasingly  infirm, 
and  prevented  his  going  up  as  much  as 
before  to  London,  he  was  eager  to  hear 
all  possible  news  about  his  friends  and 
acquaintances,  doing  his  best  to  stimulate 
my  memory  that  I  might  tell  him  even 
trifling  details  about  them  and  their 
families.  I  told  him  one  day  that  I  had 
just  met  Mr.  E.  G.  and  his  new  wife,  and 
that  it  had  been  very  pleasant  to  see  how 
happy  and  contented  they  looked  to- 
gether, and  Mr.  Meredith  said  medi- 
tatively :  '  Dear  fellow !  and  I  always 
looked  upon  him  as  such  a  determined 
spinster  !  ' 

Another  day  I  was  deploring  with  him 
the  broken  engagement  between  two  young 
mutual  acquaintances  of  ours,  and  he 
said  :  '  Ah  !  it 's  very  easy  to  say,  it 's 
the  woman's  doing.  You  press  on  her 
weak   spot   (which,   observe,   you   know), 


114    MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

she  flares  up,  and  you  say,  "  You  had  no 
idea  she  had  such  a  temper."  ' 

He  sometimes  gave  me  books  and  edi- 
tions of  his  own  works,  but  he  did  not  like 
his  friends  to  search  after  and  purchase 
at  exorbitant  prices  the  early  1851  volume 
of  his  poems.  He  used  to  say  ruefully 
how  much  he  wished  the  British  public 
had  bought  his  books  in  his  youth,  when 
encouragement  would  have  meant  so  much 
to  him,  instead  of  in  his  old  age  paying 
fancy  prices  for  poems  that  he  himself 
wished  forgotten.  One  day  he  was  quite 
angry  with  me  when  I  told  him  that  with 
the  help  of  a  book-loving  friend  I  had 
acquired  a  copy  of  the  coveted  little  green 
volume  of  the  1851  poems.  He  was  so 
vexed,  that  the  book  which  he  had  intended 
to  give  me  that  afternoon,  and  that  was 
lying  on  the  table  beside  him,  was  petu- 
lantly pushed  out  of  my  reach. 

It  was  in  the  summer  of  1897  that  he 
came  to  stay  with  us  at  Elvaston  Place 
for  the  last  time.  His  health  was  rapidly 
becoming  worse,  and  the  steep  stairs  of 


MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH  115 

a  tall  London  house  were  very  trying  to 
him.  I  remember  how  much  I  envied 
those  among  his  friends  who  had  a  bedroom 
on  the  ground  floor. 

During  this  last  visit  he  slipped  on  the 
stairs  and  hurt  himself  a  good  deal. 

We  ceased  therefore  to  ask  him  to  come 
and  stay  with  us,  but  I  went  down  when- 
ever I  could  to  spend  some  hours  with  him 
at  the  Cottage  at  Box  Hill.  His  deafness 
was  also  increasing  upon  him,  and  he  did 
not  in  consequence  like  seeing  strangers  or 
casual  acquaintances. 

Box  Hill. 

Dear  Mrs.  Jim, — To-morrow  I  am  out  in  the 
day.  On  Thursday  I  receive  Alphonse  Daudet, 
Lison,  with  Henry  James  and  others,  who  dine 
here.  The  Daudets,  it  seems,  have  made 
acquaintance  with  my  books,  and  so  give  me 
some  hours  of  their  visit  to  England.  Why  did 
you  delay  ?  There  is  Monday  open  that  may 
be  too  late.  Inform  me  of  your  return  if  I  am 
not  to  see  you  now. — Ever  faithfully, 

George  Meredith. 

Dear  Mrs.  Jim, — One  petition.    When  you 


116    MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

are    moved   by  the   good   thought,    come  un- 
accompanied. G.  M. 

Yet  occasionally  I  would  with  some 
trepidation  persuade  him  to  let  me  bring 
a  friend  to  visit  him,  and  the  experiment 
was  almost  always  successful. 


CHAPTER  XI 

In  the  autumn  of  1897,  my  mother,  Mrs. 
Brandreth,  died  after  a  very  long  and  pain- 
ful illness,  and  in  the  spring  of  1898  I  be- 
came engaged  to  marry  Mr.  J.  G.  Butcher, 
Q.C.,  M.P.  for  York.  Mr.  Meredith  knew 
and  '  liked  him  well,'  and  when  I  wrote  to 
tell  him  that  the  date  for  our  marriage  was 
fixed,  he  wrote  me  an  affectionate  letter  of 
good  wishes  and  i  vows  for  my  happiness.' 

He  used  to  compare  Mr.  Butcher  to 
Harry  Richmond,  'who  never  failed  his 
father  however  trying  his  conduct  might 
be!' 

Mr.  Meredith  was  a  Radical  in  politics 
and  a  convinced  Home  Ruler.  He  had  for 
some  time  past  been  amused  at  my  growing 
Unionist  sympathies,  and  liked  to  make 
fun  about '  the  opinions  of  your  Tory  Lord.' 

After  our  marriage  Mr.  Butcher  took  a 
house  in  Yorkshire,  Riccall  Hall,  to  be  near 

117 


118    MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

his  constituents.  My  father,  Mr.  Brand- 
reth,  lived  with  us,  and  from  time  to  time 
we  used  to  send  Mr.  Meredith  game. 

One  day  in  response  to  a  gift  of  partridge 
Mr.  Meredith  wrote  : 

Oct.  8th,  1900. 

My  dear  Mrs.  Butcher, — Pleasanter  than 
gift  of  the  birds  was  the  handwriting  on  the 
label,  for  it  seems  an  assurance  that  your  father 
is  wearing  into  grandeur.  Your  husband's 
election  is,  I  suppose,  a  certainty.  Tory  report 
speaks  with  fevered  enthusiasm  of  his  orations. 
He  has  not  even  to  aim,  they  say,  and  the  birds 
of  the  Liberal  air  come  down  in  clouds.  Im- 
possible for  me  not  to  wish  him  well,  for  your 
sake,  and  they  say  you  have  canvassed  with  the 
lyric  fervour  of  Corinna,  under  control  of 
Aspasia's  persuasive  argumentation.  Riette 
gives  me  a  capital  account  of  Dorothy  and  the 
sprightly  son.  May  all  things  prosper  them 
and  you  and  every  one  dear  to  you. — Warmly 
your  friend,  George  Meredith. 

I  take  a  great  interest  in  Lady  Ulrica  Dun- 
combe,  and  imagine  her  to  be  near  you. 

Mr.  Meredith's  daughter,  Mrs.  Sturgis, 
stayed  with  us  at  Riccall  for  the  Doncaster 
races,  and  Mr.  Meredith  wrote  to  me  : 


MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH    119 

Box  Hill,  Sept.  20th,  1901. 

My  dear  Mrs.  Butcher, — You  will  be  back 
from  Doncaster  I  think.  I  have  no  one  to  tell 
me  of  races  now  that  Riette  (his  daughter)  is  at 
Overstrand.  (Back  to-day  and  I  may  hear.) 
But  this  is  to  speak  in  praise  of  the  birds  and  the 
fair  benefactress,  what  have  I  done  to  be  so 
thoughtfully  served  !  .  .  . 

Princess — was  here  of  late,  and  said  very  sweet 
confectionery  things.  .  .  .  Your  word  of  Lady 
Ulrica's  appearance  of  better  health  refreshed 
me.  .  .  . 

Remember  me  to  your  lord  and  your  father. — 
Warmly  yours,  George  Meredith. 

In  another  letter  he  wrote  : 

The  birds  were  excellent,  but  I  am  jealous 
when  I  have  to  commend  you  for  thinking  of 
my  larder. 

Box  Hill,  Dorking. 

My  dear  Mrs.  Butcher, — The  little  books  by 
post  herewith  may  do  for  Dorothy,  if  she  cares 
for  these  stories.  They  are  reprints  in  good 
type.  Perhaps  the  mother  may  think  Chloe 
not  suitable.  .  .  . 

Birds  just  brought  in.  Honour  to  the  gun  ! 
but  I  would  have  you  know  that  the  books  are 
not    a    mere    attempt    at    repartee.     Give    my 


120    MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

regards  to  your  father  and  that  young  chief  of 
his  country's  XoyiKot',  and  know  me  warmly 
yours,  George  Meredith. 

If  I  wrote  to  him  requesting  his  leave  to 
bring  some  young  author  or  authoress  or 
politician  down  to  make  his  acquaintance, 
he  would  sometimes  excuse  himself  on  the 
score  of  health,  and  sometimes  reluctantly 
consent,  but  in  that  case  he  would  always 
carefully  settle  the  train  by  which  we  were 
to  return  to  London  for  fear  we  might  stay 
too  long. 

My  dear  Mrs.  Butcher, — You  will  ruin  your 
chance  of  the  motor  if  you  chuck  pennies  to  the 
post  in  this  reckless  way.  This  day  week  I 
shall  expect  you  .  .  .  and  you,  will  do  me  the 
favour  to  lunch  with  me.  This  is  understood. 
Tell  your  Tory  Lord  that  I  cite  him  as  the  model 
for  professional  sagacity  to  all  my  lawyer 
Liberal  friends  who  are  M.P.'s  to  no  purpose 
for  a  round  of  years,  and  whose  honorary  M.P. 
to  the  name  reads  Missed  Place.  They  vow 
that  they  chose  their  sides  as  patriots — to  the 
contempt  of  the  profession  for  their  merits. — 
Very  warmly,  George  Meredith. 

In  his  talks  as  well  as  in  his  letters  to  me 


'li 

h 

73 

< 

x 
o 

fa 

0 
2 


■a" 


MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH    121 

he  made  frequent  allusions  to  my  husband's 
very  decided  political  views. 

Box  Hill,  Dec.  31st,  1901. 

My  dear  Mrs.  Butcher, — All  happiness  to 
you  and  yours  for  the  New  Year  !  together  with 
that  wholesome  confusion  to  your  husband's 
politics  which  will  pluck  him  out  of  his  pleonistic 
state,  and  throw  him  back  upon  his  native 
strength  once  more. 

(I  sent  him  a  present  of  some  Madeira 

custard  apples.) 

The  Madeira  apples  were  custardy  and  curious. 
Perhaps  Eve  would  have  fallen  for  them.  I  am 
not  so  sure  about  Adam.  The  pips  furnish  an 
agreeable  entertainment.  A  high  propulsion 
would  enable  them  to  kill.  But  can  there  be 
any  liveliness  in  such  hard  little  niggers  to  per- 
petuate the  race  ?  Remember  me  very  warmly 
to  your  father,  and  know  me  ever  most  cordially 
yours,  George  Meredith. 

Box  Hill,  Jan  12tk. 

My  dear  Mrs.  Butcher, — All  good  fortune 
to  you  for  the  year  except  on  the  Highbury 
motor  (a  reference  to  Mr.  Joseph  Chamberlain). 

Your  father's  princely  dispensing  of  woodcock 
would  astonish  sportsmen  who  never  shoot  one 


122    MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

without  talking  of  it  all  the  evening.  .  .  . 
Though  I  can  hardly  write  I  am  entreated  day 
by  day  to  '  send  some  words 5  to  or  for  candidates, 
journals,  and  notices  of  meetings,  not  to  speak 
of  manuscript  people  panting  for  print. — Yours 
ever  warmly,  George  Meredith. 

Later  in  1906  when  my  husband  lost  his 
seat  at  York  by  ten  votes  he  wrote  : 

My  dear  Alice  Butcher, — 

•  ••••• 

Your  defeat  at  York  was  a  shock  even  to  my 
Radical  bosom.  Would  I  let  in  a  friend  if  I 
could  ?     I  do  not  answer. — Yours  warmly, 

George  Meredith. 

I  used  occasionally  to  take  a  book  down 
with  me  that  I  thought  he  might  like  to 
read,  and  one  afternoon  having  been 
greatly  fascinated  with  the  Renaissance  of 
the  Comte  de  Gobineau,  also  with  the 
essay  written  on  his  work  by  M.  Edmund 
Schure,  I  took  with  me  copies  of  these 
volumes  and  begged  Mr.  Meredith  if  he 
liked  them  to  accept  and  place  them  in  his 
library  ;  but  he  would  not  keep  the  books, 
and  wrote  to  me  : 


MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH    128 

I  return  the  book  of  the  Comte  de  Gobineau. 
I  have  not  for  long  read  anything  so  good.  The 
Renaissance  in  its  chief  ruler  and  the  ideas  and 
character  of  the  time  is  made  to  live.  So  much 
has  the  author  impressed  me  that  I  sent  for  his 
Histoire  des  Perses  and  expose  of  his  political 
notions. 

He  was  not  at  all  an  easy  person  to  give 
presents  to.  He  was  very  proud,  and  even 
the  smallest  gift  had  to  be  engineered  with 
tact.  I  remember  bringing  him  two  silver 
flat  poached  egg-spoons  from  Norway,  and 
he  implored  me  to  take  then  back  with  me 
to  London,  and  looked  much  relieved  when 
I  consented  to  do  so  ! 

He  liked  little  gifts  of  game,  flowers,  and 
inexpensive  books — as  long  as  they  were 
'  not  too  much  and  not  too  often.'  While 
appreciating  any  kindly  thought,  he  was 
one  of  those  who  would  always  prefer  to 
bestow  rather  than  to  accept  benefits. 
This  was  one  of  the  idiosyncrasies  of  his 
character  which  had  to  be  accepted  by 
those  who  wished  to  remain  his  friends. 

I  have  heard  people  who  did  not  know 


124    MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

him  well  say  that  he  was  ungrateful,  but 
when  they  made  this  comment  the  thought 
that  always  came  into  my  mind  was  that 
no  one  should  expect  an  eagle  to  be  grateful. 
He  was  an  eagle  of  thought.  He  said  once 
to  a  friend  '  How  I  leaped  through  leagues 
of  thought  when  I  could  walk  !  '  but  after 
his  power  of  walking  had  departed,  he  still 
sat  on  his  hillside  and  thought  and  thought 
till  there  came  what  he  called  '  the  pounce 
of  the  mind,'  when  he  would  swoop  down 
on  the  idea  and  bear  it  away  to  store  in  his 
brain  for  future  use. 

He  was  by  no  means  always  a  benevolent 
eagle  !  He  said  to  my  son  Geoffrey  Gordon, 
in  reference  to  the  criticisms  that  had  been 
passed  on  his  writings :  '  They  have  always 
been  abusing  me.  I  have  been  observing 
them.     It  is  the  crueller  process.' 

Most  of  his  life  had  been  passed  in  obser- 
vation and  in  thought  and  in  solitude 
alone  with  Nature.  Those  who  live  all 
their  days  in  crowds  are  apt  to  think  with, 
instead  of  in  advance  of,  the  multitude. 


CHAPTER  XII 

Mr.  Meredith's  fame  as  novelist  and 
poet  had  been  increasing,  though  I  do  not 
think  he  ever  became  a  really  popular 
author.  To  enjoy  his  works,  to  under- 
stand his  thought,  too  much  effort  was 
required,  while  purists  in  style  were  in- 
dignant at  his  use  of  adjectives  as  nouns 
and  at  his  involved  sentences.  Neverthe- 
less his  words  found  harbourage  in  many 
minds,  and*  it  was  amusing  to  recognise 
fairly  often  phrases  and  sentences  taken 
from  his  writings  and  published  without 
any  acknowledgment  in  articles,  reviews, 
and  even  in  other  novels  :  and  authors 
selected  lines  from  his  works  with  which  to 
decorate  the  title-pages  and  headings  of 
chapters  in  their  own  books. 

One  brazen  young  writer  avowed,  '  that 
Meredith  was  so  jolly  easy  to  steal  from, 

116 


126    MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

that  he  was  a  boon  and  a  blessing  to  young 
authors.' 

In  1905  he  received  the  '  Order  of  Merit,' 
or  the  '  Order  of  Old  Men  '  as  he  whimsi- 
cally called  it  to  a  friend. 

After  the  publication  of  Diana  of  the 
Crossways  and  The  Egoist  he  became 
famous  among  literary  people,  and  his 
writings  and  opinions  were  talked  about  by 
the  general  public. 

It  grew  to  be  the  fashion  to  make  a 
4  pilgrimage  '  to  see  him,  after  which  many 
of  his  visitors  would  publish  picturesque 
little  descriptions  of  their  visit  to  '  The 
Sage  of  Box  Hill '  in  various  literary  papers 
and  magazines. 

Also  not  a  few  society  damsels  of  way- 
ward disposition  sought  his  acquaintance 
and  wrote  to  him  afterwards  signing  them- 
selves by  their  own  names,  with  Diana  of 
the  Crossways  written  beneath.  After  re- 
ceiving one  of  these  letters  he  remarked : 
4  Diana  was  a  head  and  shoulders,  soul  and 
stomach,  taller  than  Miss  X.' 

Artists,   authors,   actors   and   notables, 


MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH  127 

both  men  and  women,  visited  him  during 
the  last  ten  to  twelve  years  of  his  life,  and 
I  am  sure  that  in  spite  of  his  growls  he 
thoroughly  enjoyed  the  homage  ;  but  he 
liked  it  discreet  and  tempered  with  wit,  or 
it  quickly  surfeited  him. 

Unfortunately  he  was  often  not  well 
enough  to  receive  his  visitors,  and  it  was  a 
grief  to  all  his  friends  to  see  his  health  fail- 
ing and  his  deafness  increasing;  but  his 
brain  was  as  quick  and  clear  as  ever  and 
remained  so  to  the  end. 

Here  is  the  place  to  record  that  he,  his 
children,  and  all  those  who  loved  him  owe 
a  sincere  debt  of  gratitude  to  Miss  Bessie 
Nichols,  his  devoted  nurse  and  attendant, 
whose  hourly  care  of  him  for  ten  years 
spared  him  so  much  suffering,  and  helped 
to  make  his  last  days  endurable  and  at 
times  enjoyable. 

I  liked  telling  him  comments  that  I  had 
heard  expressed  about  his  writings,  and 
rejoiced  over  the  quotations  that  I  dis- 
covered from  his  books  in  other  people's 
novels.     But  after  listening,  with  courteous 


128    MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

alertness,  to  my  efforts  to  please  and  in- 
terest him,  he  would  shake  his  head  and 
say  :  '  My  dear,  it  all  comes  too  late,'  and 
I  know  he  often  thought  how  his  wife, '  the 
dear  life  of  me,'  would  have  rejoiced  at  his 
success ;  but  fortunately  his  children  and 
his  grandchildren  were  there  to  enjoy  it 
beside  him. 

I  think  that  more  than  all  else  he  valued 
constancy  in  his  friends.  His  old  friends 
meant  a  great  deal  to  him,  and  he  would  get 
quite  elated  at  the  prospect  of  any  of  his 
6  specials  '  coming  to  see  him,  and  would 
exert  himself  to  the  utmost  to  provide  them 
with  an  acceptable  entertainment. 

His  younger  friends  when  they  were 
engaged  to  be  married  would  make  a  point 
of  journeying  down  to  Box  Hill  to  present 
their  '  fiances  '  to  Mr.  Meredith.  These 
visitors  were  always  welcome,  and  he 
would  receive  them  in  his  most  genial 
mood  ;  and  I  am  sure  none  of  them  easily 
forgot  the  quaint  phrases  with  which  he 
would  clothe  his  words  of  counsel  and 
warning,  nor  would  they  forget  the  vivid 


MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH  129 

interest  that  he  always  showed  in  the  pros- 
pects and  projects  for  their  future  united 
lives. 

After  receiving  one  such  couple,  he  said 
to  me :  c  Candour  itself  looked  out  of  her 
eyes.  People  tell  me  she  is  plain  !  but  he 
may  count  himself  a  fortunate  man  who 
is  married  to  those  sincere  brown  eyes  ! ' 
But  woe  betide  the  visitors  of  either  sex 
who  hoped  to  impress  him  with  '  pose  and 
pretence.'  To  such  callers  he  was  some- 
what remorseless,  and  by  such  he  was  not 
much  liked. 

He  hated  being  exploited  '  for  his  great 
name,'  and  used  to  provide  great  merriment 
for  us  by  his  descriptions  of  the  perfervid 
Americans  who  journeyed  down  to  Box 
Hill,  so  as  to  be  able  to  say  that  they  had 
made  his  acquaintance.  One  soulful  dame, 
a  great  admirer  (she  said)  of  his  books,  cast 
her  arms  round  his  neck  and  in  his  own 
words  '  imprinted  an  emotional  salute  upon 
my  cheek,'  an  episode  that  caused  him 
comic  embarrassment. 

Another  wealthy  American,  being  warned 

i 


130    MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

that  he  did  not  like  expensive  presents, 
sent  him  what  he  described  as  cornucopias 
of  fruit,  chocolates,  and  other  dainties 
anonymously  ;  and  yet  another  sent  him 
somewhat  similar  offerings  by  her  black 
negro  servants.  He  afterwards  described 
the  negress  and  said :  '  Her  countenance 
was  night ;  but  through  the  night  I  saw  a 
star  !  ' 

I  confess  that  I  mightily  enjoyed  making 
fun  with  him  and  at  him  about  these 
'  pilgrimages  to  the  Sage  of  Box  Hill,'  and 
he  would  laugh  and  say,  '  The  British 
public  would  not  read  my  books,  and  now 
I  am  told  that  curates— curates,  my  dear — 
quote  me  from  their  pulpits  !  ' 

I  said  to  him  one  afternoon  :  '  Now  you 
have  so  many  notables  to  see  you,  and  great 
ladies  to  visit  you,  you  won't  want  me  to 
come  so  often  and  take  up  your  time  '  ; 
and  he  answered,  '  You  were  my  friend, 
dear,  before  the  British  public  (who  never 
cared  to  read  my  books)  wanted  to  know 
what  I  eat  for  breakfast,  and  what  coloured 
tie  I  generally  wear.' 


\ 


MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH  131 

After  I  became  the  wife  of  a  Member  of 
Parliament,  he  often  talked  about  politics 
and  the  political  situation  to  me,  and 
seemed  interested  to  hear  what  was  being 
said  4  in  the  Tory  camp.'  But  always 
through  all  his  conversations  he  betrayed 
his  constant  nightmare  anxiety  as  to  what 
would  happen  to  our  beloved  England  if 
she  were  invaded  by  foreign  foes.  In  his 
books  he  sometimes  refers  to  this  dread, 
but  still  more  in  his  conversations  he  would 
repeat  how  wickedly  mad  he  considered  it 
of  the  politicians  of  both  sides  that  they 
should  make  no  better  preparations  for 
defence. 

He  used  to  say  that  when  war  did  burst 
upon  us — and  we  were  unprepared — 
England  would  be  like  a  hermit  crab, 
without  a  shell,  fighting  with  terrible 
odds  against  a  fierce  enemy  crustacean 
protected  by  an  armoured  and  scaly  shell, 
and  he  dreaded  the  result. 

Mr.  Meredith  had  many  friends  and  but 
few  acquaintances. 

I  have  little   doubt  that   most  of  his 


132    MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

intimate  friends  could  give  similar  records 
to  mine  of  his  understanding  counsels  in 
time  of  trouble,  and  tell  of  the  wit  and 
charm  of  his  conversation.  His  talk  had 
always  the  great  merit  of  spontaneity,  in 
which  quality  I  think  his  novels  are  some- 
what lacking. 

He  was  given  to  keeping  his  friends  in 
1  watertight  compartments,'  and  seeing 
only  one  or  two  of  them  at  a  time.  This 
may  partly  have  been  due  to  the  small- 
ness  of  his  rooms,  and  to  his  increasing 
deafness,  which  made  it  impossible  for 
him  to  hear  conversation  unless  it  was 
addressed  directly  to  him. 

When,  in  1902,  my  father  became  the 
possessor  of  a  motor  car,  one  of  our  first 
thoughts  was  how  pleasant  it  would  be  to 
take  Mr.  Meredith  for  drives.  The  road 
from  London  to  Leith  Hill  became  very 
familiar  to  our  chauffeur,  and  many  a 
pleasant  drive  through  Surrey  roads  and 
lanes  did  we  take  with  our  old  friend,  and 
it  was  as  much  joy  to  my  father  as  it  was 
to  me  to  contribute  a  little  to  his  pleasure. 


MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH    133 

Mr.  Meredith  enjoyed  these  excursions 
like  a  boy,  and  the  rapid  pace  of  motoring 
(then  somewhat  of  a  novelty)  amused  and 
exhilarated  him. 

One  day  we  met  a  very  old  friend  of  his 
and  ours  on  the  back  side  of  Holmwood 
Common,  who  stopped  our  motor  and 
scolded  us  well  for  driving  about  on  a 
kitchen  range,  and  making  the  country 
horrid  for  horses  and  their  riders.  Mr. 
Meredith  did  not  appreciate  this  comment, 
and  for  the  first  time  in  my  memory  he 
made  no  retort. 

From  my  Diary 

Mr.  Meredith  said  to-day,  as  we  were  motoring 
over  to  Leith  Hill,  that  when  he  was  in  his 
donkey  chair  crawling  along  the  lanes,  his  idea 
of  motoring  was  '  Three  toots  of  a  horn,  and  a 
harem  of  veiled  ladies  dashes  by  leaving  a  stench 
of  petrol  behind,  that  lasts  for  a  quarter  of  an 
hour.' 

My  father's  motor  enabled  me  very 
often  to  run  down  to  Box  Hill  to  see  Mr. 
Meredith,  and  I  sometimes  had  the 
pleasure  of  taking  his  special  friends  to 


134    MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

see  him  ;  but  as  time  passed  we  would 
motor  down  to  his  cottage  only  to  find 
that  he  was  not  well  enough  to  drive  out 
with  us,  or  to  undertake  an  excursion, 
and  we  would  be  Jesuitical  in  persuading 
him,  that  we  were  only  driving  past,  and 
had  not  come  down  '  on  purpose  '  to  take 
him  out. 

Box  Hill. 

My  dear  Alice  Butcher, — The  second  brace 
of  birds  has  come  to  remind  me  of  my  silent 
reception  of  the  first.  I  know  I  have  not  to 
plead,  for  you  know  that  I  am  sensible,  short  only 
of  pen  in  hand — of  the  first,  and  of  much  more, 
and  so  constantly  that  it  serves  for  an  argu- 
ment supporting  the  claims  of  women  in  that 
respect.  .  .  . 

Such  is  my  present  hatred  of  the  pen,  that  I 
make  a  resolute  stand  against  the  most  urgent 
incitement  of  the  head  to  dictate  another  cock- 
shy for  reviewers. — Ever  warmly  yours, 

George  Meredith. 

Among  Mr.  Meredith's  friends  that  I 
met  from  time  to  time  at  his  cottage  were 
Admiral  Maxse  and  Sir  William  Hardman, 
the    originals    of    Nevil    Beauchamp   and 


MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH  135 

Blackburn  Tuckham  in  the  novel  Beau- 
champ's  Career,  Mr.  Leslie  Stephen,  the 
original  of  Vernon  Whitford  in  the  Egoist 
(a  very  favourite  character  of  the  author's), 
and  Sir  Frederick  Pollock,  to  whom  Mr. 
Meredith  dedicated  Diana  of  the  Crossways. 
In  mentioning  the  names  of  some  of  his 
friends,  we  must  not  forget  his  dogs.  I 
can  never  remember  Mr.  Meredith  without 
a  dog  companion.  It  was  very  amusing 
to  watch  him  talking  to  his  dogs.  He 
would  speak  to  them  exactly  as  if  they 
were  human  beings ;  only  with  more 
intonations  of  the  voice,  and  with  more 
gestures  ;  and  they  seemed  to  understand 
everything  he  said,  and  on  their  part 
conversed  with  him  in  doggy  fashion, 
with  movements  of  ears,  tail,  and  paws, 
with  which  they  formulated  their  re- 
quests, and  expressed  their  satisfaction. 
The  very  names  bring  back  to  memory 
the  quaint  companionship  between  them 
and  their  adored  master  and  friend.  Ben 
Kobold,  Bruno,  Islet,  Jacobi,  and,  last  but 
not  least,  the  well-beloved  Sandy,  who  was 


136    MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

present    at    his    funeral,    and    died    soon 
afterwards. 

His  epitaph  on  Islet  the  Dachs  is  worth 
quoting  here  : 

Our  Islet  out  of  Heligoland,  dismissed 
From  his  quaint  tenement,  quits  hates  and  loves. 
There  lived  with  us  a  wagging  humourist 
In    that    hound's    arch   dwarf-legged    on    boxing- 
gloves. 

In  the  winter  of  1903-4  Mr.  Meredith 
went  to  spend  some  months  with  his 
daughter  and  son-in-law,  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
H.  Sturgis,  at  Givons,  near  Leatherhead, 
where  I  saw  him  several  times. 

One  afternoon,  after  he  had  returned 
to  his  own  cottage,  I  went  down  to  see  him, 
but  before  I  went  into  his  room  his  nurse, 
Bessie  Nichols,  told  me  that  I  had  better 
not  stay  long,  as  the  day  before  some 
French  authors  and  friends  of  his  had  been 
spending  the  day  with  him,  and  though 
he  had  greatly  enjoyed  their  company,  she 
feared  he  was  very  tired  and  exhausted, 
and  she  wanted  him  to  have  a  resting 
afternoon  and,  if  possible,  get  some  sleep. 


MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH    137 

When  I  went  into  his  room  and  received 
his  cordial  greeting,  I  made  some  excuse 
for  leaving  before  tea,  saying  that  I  would 
call  again  the  next  day,  but  as  he  pressed 
me  to  remain,  I  explained  that  Bessie 
Nichols  thought  he  had  better  have  a  rest, 
as  the  Frenchmen's  conversation  the  day 
before  had  wearied  him. 

He  made  a  gesture  of  annoyance,  and 
said  to  me  : 

6  You  need  not  think,  my  dear,  that 
your  company  fatigues  my  brains  —  that 
was  conversation ! ' 


CHAPTER  XIII 

In  1907  there  came  to  me  an  experience 
which  for  a  time  prevented  me  from  seeing 
Mr.  Meredith,  but  which  enabled  me  to 
understand  and  sympathise  with  the  limi- 
tations to  normal  life  that  are  caused 
by  serious  illness.  My  daughter  Dorothy 
wrote  to  tell  Mr.  Meredith  that  the  doctors 
had  decreed  that  I  must  spend  at  least  a 
year  of  life  on  my  back,  and  that  very 
possibly  I  might  never  be  able  to  walk 
again.     He  wrote  to  me  : 

Box  Hill, 
Dorking,  May  12th,  1907. 

My  dear  Alice  Butcher, — Dorothy's  report 
of  you  this  morning  brings  me  to  your  bedside. 
I  need  not  speak  of  my  grief — you  will  know. 
And  you  know  how  vexatious  it  is  to  hear  the 
preaching  of  patience.  That  virtue  is  with- 
drawn from  us  at  the  moment. 

I  have  gone  through  the  trial — on  my  back 
for  a  month,  with  one  leg  in  a  cathedral  gallows. 
Then  permission  to  lie  on  the  right  side,  or  the 

138 


MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH  139 

left — luxury  immense,  until  the  thought  of 
people  up  and  moving  caused  the  bed  to  seem 
an  implacable  rack. 

However  I  won  a  smile  through  it,  and  chaffed 
Drs.,  Nurses  and  myself.  The  thing  to  do  in 
such  a  case  is  to  rise  humorously  above  one's 
body,  which  is  the  veritable  rebel,  not  the  mind. 
That  also  is  the  task,  whether  we  are  up  and 
about,  or  lying  in  bed.  So  you  see  you  are  still 
one  with  us,  under  the  same  trial.  But  this  will 
seem  only  another  way  of  preaching  patience. 
Bessie  Nichols  trusts  that  you  may  have 
it  ' 

XV*  •  •  • 

I  was  distressed  at  the  idea  of  Mr.  Mere- 
dith missing  his  motor  drives  now  that  my 
father  had  a  comfortable  car,  and  during 
my  long  illness  it  was  sent  down  from  time 
to  time  for  his  use. 

Box  Hill,  Dorking. 

My  dear  Alice  Butcher, — You  have  my 
constant  sympathy,  in  thoughts  at  many 
moments  during  the  day.  For  though  my  trial 
was  milder,  I  found  it  hard  to  bear  always  on 
my  back,  denied  any  blessed  turning  to  right 
or  left,  the  procession  of  the  worn-out  same 
thoughts  passing  through  me.  Then  the  crippled 
leg  was  encased,  and  I  could  make  a  show  of 
turning  ...  to  astonish  the  virtuous  leg  at  the 


140    MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

strange  transmogrification  of  its  familiar  fellow. 
That  for  the  second  month  of  durance.  Your 
date  of  November  afflicts  me  with  a  heavy 
weight — times  flies ;  but  it  flies  faster  out  of 
bed. 

The  grey  old  Senior  once  in  it  is  a  sleepy 
beast,  unknowing  of  vanity.  November  must 
give  you  indemnification.  As  to  the  car  you 
so  kindly  propose.  Thursday  would  suit  me 
in  the  afternoon  between  2|  and  3.  At  Fleet 
on  a  visit  to  Will  and  his  wife  I  tried  one  for  a 
week,  and  we  had  many  excursions,  with  a  frisky 
chauffeur. 

Heaven  be  with  you,  and  that  good  thing 
of  the  terrible  word  for  one  imprisoned — 
Patience.  George  Meredith. 

My  father  sent  the  car  down  to  Box  Hill, 
and  with  it  to  spend  the  afternoon  in  the 
country,  our  butler  and  his  little  son. 
Mr.  Meredith  wrote  afterwards  : 

Box  Hill,  July  20th,  1907. 

My  dear  Alice  B., — It  may  seem  (but  the 
conjecture  will  not  bear  analysis)  luxurious  to 
lie  in  bed  and  dispense  motor  cars  to  needy 
people.  As  to  them,  there  is  no  doubt  the 
drive,  though  we  did  not  reach  our  destination 
under  Leith  Hill,  took  us  into  an  undulating 


MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH  141 

land  of  firs  and  very  green  brackens  ;  the  car 
was  perfect,  as  to  our  experiences  of  it ;  and 
we  had  confidence  in  your  chauffeur.  Lady 
Hardman  had  telegraphed  that  she  was  coming  ; 
my  reply  reached  her  flat  too  late.  So  I  took 
her  with  me,  and  she  is  among  those  who  are 
indebted  to  the  dispensing  bed  for  the  pleasant 
run  we  had. 

Compliment  your  butler  on  the  good  looks 
of  his  boy.  I  hear  that  sixteen  years  were 
required  to  produce  him,  but  the  result  is  worthy 
of  the  time  expended.  My  sole  regret  for  the 
day  was  that  you  were  not  present  to  grace  the 
party. 

Adieu  in  the  full  meaning  of  that  valediction. 

George  Meredith. 

During  the  long  summer  months  that 
I  was  kept  in  bed,  little  boxes  of  flowers 
arrived  from  Box  Hill,  mauve  sweet  peas, 
violets  and  other  country  garden  blossoms, 
to  show  that  I  was  not  forgotten.  In  the 
late  autumn  I  was  carried  downstairs 
daily  for  a  few  hours,  and  Mr.  Meredith 
wrote  : 

November  1907. 

My  dear  Alice  B., — Your  excursion  down- 
stairs must  have  given  you  some  relief,  as  it  does 


142    MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

to  me  in  thinking  of  you.  I  have  been  unable 
to  write — a  heap  of  arrears  in  correspondence  is 
in  the  basket  beside  me.  A  chill  struck  me  down, 
and  at  one  time  Bessy  Nichols  took  a  serious 
view  of  the  case.  The  most  indomitable  of 
attendants,  she  is  very  apprehensive.  I  pre- 
served my  cheerfulness,  for  either  way  it  is  a 
mere  quiver  of  the  balance  to  me  now.  When 
I  ceased  to  walk  briskly  part  of  my  life  had 
ended,  and  I  am  bored  by  having  to  read  be- 
lated opinions  of  the  work  I  have  done.  Let 
me  hear  that  you  are  making  progress. 

Be  a  Christian  Scientist  so  far  as  to  determine 
on  it.  My  best  remembrances  to  your  father 
and  J.  G.  B. — Yours  constantly, 

George  Meredith. 

My  long  illness  was  cheered  with  many 
alleviations.  Friends  came  constantly  to 
see  me.  A  piano  was  installed  in  the  room, 
and  during  August  and  September  one  or 
two  friends  came  and  played  to  me.  An 
electrophone  was  attached  to  the  tele- 
phone, and  I  used  to  lie  and  listen  to  Caruso 
and  Destin  singing  at  the  opera,  while  on 
Sundays  I  could  first  attend  to  a  choral 
service  and  then  be  switched  on  to  hear 
some  famous  preacher. 


MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH  143 

I  had  one  amusing  experience.  An 
eminent  prelate  wishing  to  hear  a  notorious 
preacher,  and  yet  not  wishing  to  be  seen 
amongst  his  congregation,  it  was  suggested 
to  him  by  a  mutual  friend  that  he  should 
come  to  my  room  on  a  certain  Sunday 
morning  and  thus  hear  the  sermon  through 
the  electrophone.  This  was  done  and  he 
and  I  and  the  nurse  listened  for  nearly  an 
hour  to  the  preacher's  somewhat  bombastic 
eloquence. 

In  December  1907  my  father  died  at  the 
age  of  86.  He  had  kept  in  vigorous  health 
to  within  ten  days  of  his  death,  and  during 
the  autumn  had  read  a  learned  paper  on 
'  Landscape  in  Sanskrit  poetry,'  and  had 
also  greatly  enjoyed  his  shooting  at  Riccall 
with  my  husband.  On  hearing  of  our  loss 
Mr.  Meredith  wrote  : 

Box  Hill,  Dec.  22,  1907. 

My  dear  Alice  B., — There  is  no  consolation 
for  such  a  loss  as  yours,  beyond  the  thought  that 
the  life  ended  had  been  a  life  well  lived,  and  was 
full  ripe.  He  was  one  of  the  good  men  to  whom 
kindness  was  of  his  nature ;   and  I,  who  am  so 


144    MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

near  upon  following  him,  can  wish  but  that  the 
closing  of  my  eyes  may  be  as  peaceful  both 
physically  and  in  review  of  the  days  gone.  I 
rely  on  your  good  sense  to  enable  you  to  bear 
this  blow.     Give  my  love  to  the  children. 

You  will  not  care  for  an  '  oraison  funebre.' 
If  it  ever  comes  spontaneously  from  any  one  it 
would  not  from  me. 

The  mind  must  be  prepared  for  these  heavy 
strokes  of  Nature.  Besides,  the  life  gone  from 
sight  and  hearing  is  not,  if  it  was  loved,  a  life 
lost. — Yours  most  warmly, 

George  Meredith. 

In  April  1908 1  went  down,  still  invalided, 
to  stay  with  my  mother-in-law  Mrs.  Gordon 
at  Lyme  Regis,  and  while  I  was  there 
received  the  following  letter  : 

Box  Hill,  Ap.  1})//',  1908. 
My  dear  Alice  B.,— The  plovers'  eggs  (from 
Riccall)  have  come,  and  are  very  acceptable, 
except  that  they  remind  me  of  better  days  for 
you.  It  is  good  that  you  are  in  country  air, 
and  under  supervision  of  the  marvellous  Grannie. 
I  cannot  remember  a  time  when  she  failed  to 
show  me  a  smiling  face,  and  of  how  few  can 
that  be  said  !  The  shower  of  letters  since  my 
oppressive  80th  is  abating  ;    still  daily  I  have 


MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH    145 

one  or  two  to  answer.  It  is  hard  at  my  age  to 
be  pitch-forked  up  into  public  eye.  Some  would 
like  it.  I  am  not  a  Martin  Tupper,  who  said, 
when  he  had  been  flung  on  the  accustomed  heap 
after  much  pitch-forking,  that  he  would  rather 
be  an  object  of  abuse  than  not  be  mentioned  at 
all.  And  I  have  had  to  write  a  poem  for  the 
Union  Jack  Club  Album  while  undergoing  the 
torment  of  a  heavy  cold,  all  because  of  '  my 
great  name,'  which  the  album  must  have.  I 
was  too  ill  to  see  the  Major,  who  called  to  urge 
the  matter  on  Bessie  Nichols,  and  so  fascinated 
her  that  she  lent  her  energies  to  cajole  me.  Also 
a  sitting  for  Mr.  Strang  on  behalf  of  the  King  for 
Members  of  the  O.M.  to  be  hung  in  the  library 
at  Windsor. 

My  worn-out  features  !    Peace  will  come  I  still 
hope,  and  blither  days  for  you. 

George  Meredith. 


CHAPTER  XV 

During  the  summer  of  1908  I  saw  Mr. 
Meredith  several  times.  The  crutches  with 
which  at  that  time  I  was  obliged  to  walk 
distressed  him  so  greatly  that  after  the 
first  visit  I  was  obliged  to  hide  them  in 
the  little  passage  outside  his  sitting-room 
door. 

For  some  years  past  he  had  not  been 
able  to  use  the  chalet  rooms,  as  the  path 
up  through  the  orchard  garden  was  far  too 
steep  for  his  failing  powers,  so  he  spent 
his  days  in  the  little  room  that  had  been 
his  wife's  drawing-room,  and  the  dining- 
room  was  turned  into  his  bedroom. 

This  drawing-room  was  hardly  changed 
except  that  his  wife's  piano  had  disap- 
peared, and  been  replaced  by  a  small  table 
used  for  meals.  His  surroundings  might 
almost  be  called  austere.  He  had  few 
personal  possessions  ;    he  had  never  cared 

146 


MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH  147 

to  spend  money  on  pictures  or  ornaments 
for  his  own  use. 

The  portrait  by  Sandys  of  his  wife  hung 
above  the  mantelpiece.  The  tiny  room  con- 
tained little  else  but  a  few  photographs  of 
friends  and  some  books ;  but  there  in  his 
own  chair  by  the  fire  still  sat  Mr.  Meredith 
himself  with  the  greeting  smile  we  knew 
so  well. 

One  afternoon  about  this  time  he  spoke 
of  Death,  and  repeated  his  favourite 
thought,  '  that  it  was  a  friend  without 
whom  life  would  be  impossible.'  He 
quoted  lines  from  his  own  poem  '  The  spirit 
of  earth  in  Autumn,'  and  with  an  intona- 
tion never  to  be  forgotten  spoke  of  the  life 
overhead  in  the  pines  and  the  silence  below 
when 

We  drop  like  the  fruits  of  the  tree, 
Even  we, 
Even  so. 

1  went  to  see  him  in  November  1908. 
He  seemed  very  weary  and  slept  most  of 
the  time  of  my  visit.  He  had  always  an 
arresting  personality,  but  now  his  counten- 


148    MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

ance  had  grown  more  noble  and  (as  his 
friend  Mrs.  Meynell  said)  august. 

I  sat  beside  him  in  the  failing  autumn 
light,  and  the  fire  flickered  in  the  grate. 

The  silence  was  eloquent. 


When  the  hour  came  for  departure,  he 
barely  roused  himself  to  give  me  his  fare- 
well benediction. 

It  was  the  last  time  I  ever  saw  him. 

During  the  winter  of  1908  and  the  early 
spring  of  1909  I  was  too  ill  myself  to  leave 
home. 

When  Swinburne  died  early  in  1909  I 
wrote  to  Mr.  Meredith  fearing  that  the  loss 
of  his  old  friend  would  be  a  shock  to  him.1 
The  letter  he  sent  me  in  reply  must  be 
almost  the  last  he  ever  wrote  : 

Box  Hill,  April  18th,  1909. 

My  dear  Alice  Butcher, — I  could  have 
wished  for  a  better  account  of  your  condition. 

1  He  once  told  me  that  Swinburne  was  the  original   of 
Tracy  Kimningbrook  in  Sandra  lielloni. 


MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH    149 

I  had  this  hope,  and  the  contrast  of  your  crippled 
state  with  your  natural  animation  is  painful  to 
me. 

Swinburne's  death  revived  our  old  walks  and 
talks,  and  his  fervours  painfully.  I  can  think 
of  him  now,  with  more  calm.  He  had  the  am- 
bition to  do  great  work  and  has  done  it.  .  .  . 

As  to  the  mud  baths — I  remember  reading 
Michelet  on  them.  He  speaks  favourably,  I 
think  he  tried  them  for  nerves — The  Sun  God 
was  a  famous  physician.  But  Bessie  Nichols 
says, '  How  will  any  treatment  affect  the  bone  ?  ' 
I  wish  I  could  answer. — Warmly  yours, 

George  Meredith. 


On  18th  May  1909  he  died,  and  his 
ashes  were  buried  (where  those  who  loved 
him  best  knew  that  he  wished  them  to  be) 
beside  his  wife  in  Dorking  Valley  Cemetery. 

It  has  been  said  of  him  that  it  would  be 
difficult  to  write  his  life,  because  it  did  not 
contain  the  incidents  and  adventures  with 
which  to  make  an  impressive  biography. 
This  is  true.  His  enduring  legacy  to  pos- 
terity is  contained  in  his  novels  and  his 
poems. 


150    MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH 

What  centuries  of  history  and  other 
literature  he  had  pondered  over,  what 
leagues  of  thought  he  had  traversed  in  the 
long  eighty  years  of  his  life,  of  which  the 
last  ten  years  of  helpless  infirmity  must 
have  sorely  tried  his  gallant  powers  of 
endurance.  But  his  brain  remained  clear 
and  vigorous  to  the  end,  and  he  had  been 
spared  the  ordeal  of  intellectual  decay, 
ever  his  secret  dread. 

Sir  James  Barrie  in  the  beautiful  ap- 
preciation that  he  published  in  an  evening 
paper  after  the  funeral  on  22nd  May  1909 
(for  which  all  Meredith  lovers  owe  him 
thanks)  says  that  before  the  chalet  where 
he  worked  4  good  and  brave  men  will  bow 
proudly,  and  good  and  brave  women  will 
bow  more  proudly  still.' 

The  author  of  Rhoda  Fleming,  Sandra 
Belloni,  and  Diana  of  the  Crossways  had 
been  the  first  to  foresee  the  new  world  that 
was  arising  for  women,  and  had  proved 
himself  a  veritable  St.  George  in  combating 
on  their  behalf  the  dragons  of  ignorance 
and  prejudice  in  the  years  that  were  past. 


MEMORIES  OF  GEORGE  MEREDITH    151 

His  place  in  the  hearts  and  memories  of 
his  friends  will  never  be  filled,  for  whether 
we  accept  his  philosophy  of  life  or  not, 
George  Meredith  himself  was  one  who  so 
closely  '  neighboured  the  invisible  '  that  he 
could  speak  the  words  that  discipline  and 
brace  the  soul  in  time  of  need. 

Then  let  our  trust  be  firm  in  good, 

Though  we  be  of  the  fasting  ; 

Our  questions  are  a  mortal  brood, 

Our  work  is  everlasting. 

We  children  of  Beneficence 

Are  in  its  being  sharers  ; 

And  Whither  vainer  sounds  than  Whence, 

For  word  with  such  wayfarers. 


Printed  by  T.  and  A.  Constablk,  Printers  to  His  Majesty 
.it  the  Edinburgh  University  Press 


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